


Second Try

by theotheroneoverthere



Series: Love Lorn [2]
Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF, Josh Hutcherson - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theotheroneoverthere/pseuds/theotheroneoverthere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Music Accompaniment: 'Almost Lover' by A Fine Frenzy and 'Hazy' by Rosi Golan</p></blockquote>





	1. Starting over

“Cut!”

I switch off “Peeta” as best I can, but it couldn’t be more ironic. He’s hurt, I’m hurt.

 

Its been nearly three months, and I’ve been able to keep it together, somewhat. Now being asked to delve back into that place, of being hurt and feeling unjustifiably used, just dredges up all of these previously buried feelings. Its hard to get over her if I’m constantly revisiting the same stuff over and over, take after take.

 

I have to constantly remind myself that I’m lucky. I am acting in a major blockbuster and I have a life-experience to pull from. The pain is on the surface and I don’t have to fabricate the feeling from scratch. I’m doing several ‘reaction’ close-ups, and spend a lot of time with a camera in my face. It should be awkward, but I’ve found if I can focus on a person, preferably my co-star, then its less so. Normally I have Jen to play off of but not today. She’s off at some or other festival for the day doing the junkets for her other movies. I kind of regret that she’s not here because she’s normally so upbeat its infectious. But without her kinesthetic energy to syphon off of, I’m left to wallow. 

It doesn’t help that this scene is backstory for my character, how he’s been used, abused, and then tossed aside. So without a co-star I focus on, I choose the 1st AD, Elizabeth. Normally, its me using someone, anyone, as a point of reference for the camera. But halfway through the first take, something in her eyes brighten and I’m lost. Her pupils dilate, and her eyes widen while her mouth pops open into this perfect little ‘o.’ 

Its all I can do to keep my hormones in check. I can’t imagine why the casting director didn’t think of having her play Katniss, because she is the physical epitome of what I can see in my mind when I envision her. I never noticed before but she’s got these gorgeous smoky eyes, tanned almost olive skin and voluptuous DSL’s. And suddenly I’m thinking about all of the ways I want her lips on me. Plus, its hard not to smirk at her reaction, and that is when I heard her say “cut.”

That take was fucked up so they have to reset, and I have to shake my head to get back into the present. I’m supposed to be thinking of Jen, as Katniss, and how Peeta has resolved to love her. But the delicate curve of Elizabeth’s neckline has me thinking of her similarities to Kathryn, and her ample endowments and luscious curves. How they felt under my hands and with my body pressed against it. The mental image of Kathryn flits in and out of my mind and it starts to meld into the image of Elizabeth in front of me. I think about the that last evening I spent with Kat and I feel a pinch in my chest. 

The 1st DP has reset on the trolley, and the clapboard slaps down and I snap back to the present. I’m focusing on Elizabeth again, and her eyes are wide, but this time in concentration. She bites down on the corner of her mouth and I’m looking right at her while she stares into the monitor. I can feel my heart pumping a little harder and purse my lips involuntarily to keep the thought of Elizabeth making that face at me while I’m doing incredibly dirty things to her. She says ‘cut’ once more and then leans back in the chair, slips off her headset and has this wonderfully satisfied look on her face. What I would give to know that I’m the reason why she’s feeling so satisfied, to be able to know that the reason why she is so satisfied is because of what I’ve done, preferably to her rather than for her.

Walking towards her I’m struck with the thought that I don’t get to have that. That my chance with Kathryn is done. That she kicked me to the curb and told me to move on. It twists in my gut that I’m not going to be able to… to do all of those dirty things that I now want to do to, and with Elizabeth, to Kathryn anymore.

It’s upsetting that I cannot control my hormones, but then again, why should I? I’m the one who was tossed aside, again. So what if I’m thinking of the 1st AD in compromising situations, preferably bent over and screaming my name, just like Kathryn did. Or rather used to before I got dumped again.

Fuck…. again.

Why does this always seem to happen to me?

As I sidle up next to Elizabeth her scent, whether its perfume or soap or her body heat I can’t really tell, causes a lump to form in my throat and a surge of blood to a place it shouldn’t. Its amazing how scent can cause me to loose my shit so quickly. I quickly think of Andre in his underwear, causing me to grimace at the mental image of him replicating a “Birdcage” a-la Agador dance routine in my trailer. Okay… now I feel bad because I’ve objectified Andre, one of my closest friends, but its worked. The blood has regulated itself throughout my body.

I normally don’t like to look at the takes - and instead leave that to the director to tell me what’s missing. But this time around I want to know what happened. If I have to be honest, I want to be near Elizabeth. I want to hear what she has to say. If for no other reason that she is honest, more so than Francis. That’s not to say that he isn’t awesome, but I respect her opinion of me. I also find that I want to make sure that I’m in her good favor. It doesn’t hurt that its also good business to to be in good standing with the crew and the director. More than that, as of late that I’ve been seeking her out. That she’s magnetic in a way that I wasn’t expecting, that I find comforting. 

When I look up she has a grimace on her face, mirroring mine, which makes me feel even worse because I feel like I just fucked up another take. Shit. Last thing I need to do is get on her bad side. We’ve only just started shooting, and I know how tight time is for filming. This franchise has the possibility to change my future, and the last thing I need is to be labeled as anything other than professional. Sometimes all it takes is a rumor, started as the result of one-too-many takes. 

The monitor is queued up, and I huff and look at my shoes. I’ve always been uncomfortable watching myself so quickly after shooting. I’m mad at myself for doing it now, if only to get closer to Elizabeth. When I can feel the pregnant pause in the air I realize that people are waiting for me to speak up, to say something.

“So…okay then?”

She pauses, without looking up. “Yup, next shot will be more of the same. You ready?” Her tone is light and she’s grinning. 

Thank God. “Yes ma’am. What’s on deck after that?”

“Exteriors, crowd shots, mostly B-reel. Your stand in will be fine. I don’t think we’ll need any close ups once we’re done with this shot.”

“Oh. okay…” I’m disheartened, I really like the rapport we’ve cultivated, that and I like her. She’s personable and honest. She doesn’t pull punches but she’s never mean. She’s unlike what I’ve experienced in the past with a 1st AD - normally taskmasters who are constantly freaking out about something. She’s patient, thoughtful and not possessive. Its odd that I can list off more of her positive characteristics than I ever could of Kathryn’s. But then again, I never really got to know her well. Why I should keep pining after a woman who obviously didn’t care about me?

I can see that Elizabeth is working over the schedule in her head, but there is a slow smile that warms her features and brightens her eyes.

“You’re welcome to stick around if you want.”

I’m really pleased at the chance to spend more time near her. So I smile broadly, and head back behind the wide bakers block. Once I’m set, the lights come on and the camera’s in place. The clapboard is placed in front of my face and I turn on ‘Peeta.’

I’m thinking of ‘Katniss’ and suddenly the image of Kathryn backing out of my dining room with a fearful look on her face flits through my mind. I didn’t want to admit it then, but the sight of her fleeing from me hurt more than I would have expected. I can feel an involuntary tear forming. I quickly wipe my eyes with the back of my flour dusted hand, sniffle, and then cough. I shake my head and shift my gaze back down to raw dough I am working on.

I hear ‘cut’ in the background, and see Elizabeth come from behind the monitor. As she’s walking towards me she reaches out a hand, but seems to hesitate as she gets closer. I can tell that she’s reading an admonishment, and internally I cower. I didn’t realize how much I wanted her praise and hate the idea that I’ve not pleased her. When her hand makes contact with my bicep, I can feel a warming sensation flowing from her touch. She’s talking but I can’t hear anything. I’m overwhelmed by her scent and her now suddenly roaming hand. 

She lightly squeezes my bicep and then moves her hand on my left pec. I stiffen in response, while willing all the blood in my body to keep from shooting straight to my groin. I intensely focus on her hairline. This doesn’t work as expected, as my eyes move down her brow to her eyes. Deep and searching, they are smoky and catlike. When her gaze catches mine I’m dumbstruck. My heart is beating fiercely in my ears, she clears her throat to break the tension.

“Uh, okay? So… lets just do one more take the way we rehearsed.”

When she drops her hand from me, and moves to turn, I realize I need to apologize. I feel like I’ve crossed a line. Like this tension, this apprehension, is my fault. Like she could read my mind and knew in that moment of all of the completely inappropriate things I was thinking. I have to make up for it. So before she gets two steps away, I reach out to grab her hand. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble. I’ll do it the way we rehearsed.”

“No, no. No worries Josh. I just want to make sure that we have enough of the right footage that we won’t have to treat in post production. That’s all. You’re perfect.” 

Perfect? 

I’ve never had a director, or woman for that matter, tell me that. The word swirls in my conscious, ‘perfect’, while the inner kid in me is doing back-flips. I’d never admit it, but coming from Elizabeth, this compliment means more and has more weight than I expected. I can feel a squeezing surge of excitement spreading from my chest towards my face at the thought she considers me ‘perfect.’

I look down at our joined hands, and realize I don’t want to let go. I flex my fingers and trace a slow circle across her soft skin and feel, something. Its the sinking sensation that is familiar and dangerous. I know it all to well as I’m reminded of my first encounter with Kathryn. I’m staring at her delicate fingers and am lost in a recollection of that first afternoon stroll when I hear Elizabeth’s cough snapping me back to attention. I drop her hand and watch as she slowly strides back the the directors chair. The slight sway of her walk is unintentional, but it draws my eyes to the graceful curve of her hip.

As she goes to sit behind the monitor, she hunches down and crosses her legs. I know she’s not trying to be sexy, but the dip in her v-neck reveals the slightest curve of her caramel skin. Her neckline is visible to just above her bountiful bust. And I know I’m staring but I don’t care. I will my sight to move away and as I do I can see a flush spreading from her face down to her chest. It takes all I’ve got to refocus and NOT let the thought of that flush spreading from her chest to the rest of her curvaceous body. I am doing my utmost to keep the thought of a lustful Elizabeth grinding into my lap, take me too far from the moment I need to be in for this scene. 

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, hold it, and release slowly through pursed lips.

I’m in trouble.

But, I don’t mind.


	2. Blame Me Later

Smiling widely, I couldn’t be prouder. I think we got it in fewer takes than expected. I just need to look at the daily with Francis to make sure. After all the hard work and the preparation, we’re finally on set and I am the first AD, and directing the 2nd set. Normally I’d never agree to taking on any directorial responsibilities. But because we’re crunched for time Francis has asked me to shoot with one of principles, Josh Hutcherson to be precise, for possible B-reel material. While he’s off doing an Act 1 scene with Jennifer, Lenny and Willow. 

I’ve been nervous about the prospect of actually directing, normally I’m the one in the background - coordinating the chaos to make everything come together. But Francis trusts me, and it doesn’t hurt that the schedule means that I actually HAD to do some of the 2nd set filming in order to complete anywhere near schedule. Not to say that I don’t mind doing some directorial work, but It’s not really my cup of tea. I’m more of a logistics kinda gal. I guess you could say I get off on getting my check-list completed. That’s not to say that I’ve not done some of my own creative work, but never on this scale, and never with A-list actors. 

As I slip off my headset, Josh saunters over to me so that he can get a quick look at the daily before we move to the next shot. He’s grimacing, which isn’t a good sign. It means that I now have to do the one part of working with the artists that I don’t particularly like, and a main reason why I don’t really want to be a director. I get so much more satisfaction from seeing the end product than having to give someone an emotional boost. But I put on my best ‘momma bird’ attitude in preparation of coddling yet another pampered star. I’ve not heard anything about him that would suggest that he’s the kind of actor that requires hand-holding, but you can never really go wrong assuming that the creative types are ego seekers, second-guessing themselves and needing higher levels of attention than everyone else to resolve their own lack of self-worth. 

The 1st DP queue’s up the take, we crowd around the small monitor and take a look. I’m watching intently, making sure the scene reflects what I’m certain Francis is looking for. He takes up position behind me and I feel him more than see him. A couple of moments into the replay, he huffs in disapproval at his performance, but doesn’t say anything. Fine by me. I’ll take his silence as compliance, and tell the DP and gaffer to set up for the next series of interior shots. 

Josh squeaks from behind me…“So…okay then?”

I look over my shoulder, and he eyes me eagerly looking very much like he wants to be patted on the head. Its kind of cute. “Yup, next shot will be more of the same. You ready?” 

He brightens at my statement. “Yes ma’am. What’s on deck after that?”

“Exteriors, crowd shots, mostly B-reel. Your stand in will be fine. I don’t think we’ll need any close ups once we’re done with this shot.”

“oh. okay…” He looks disheartened, like I’m admonishing him. I do a mental check of the schedule and he’s not needed on set for a bit, and I don’t mind having him around, as I kind of like the mentee/mentor rapport we’ve cultivated. Its actually nice to feel like I am more than just a task master, and his earnestness and eagerness to learn is infectious. 

“You’re welcome to stick around if you want.”

He shakes his head in agreement, smiles broadly and then goes back behind the wide bakers block. The lights and the camera are in position, and I stay put adjusting my headset and getting ready to shoot. It’s a close up on just Josh’s face while he looks, I guess the best way to describe it is, broken. Its a pan-out shot, so by the time we are done we can see Josh kneading a piece of ‘dough.’ 

He is supposed to look at the camera, wistfully, and towards the ‘bakery window’, then return to kneading the dough. In an unrehearsed moment, he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, sniffles, coughs out a tear and then shakes his head to return to working the dough. 

Its a tad melodramatic, but it may just work. Regardless, we’ll need to reshoot this scene with the planned shot, just in case. I go to him once I’ve announced cut to ask him to do it the way we had rehearsed. In a gesture I’ve seen a million times I go to place a hand on his shoulder to convey a sense of calming. I hesitate because It feels awkward, like I’m chiding him, so instead I place my hand on his bicep. 

The touch electrifies me in ways I wasn’t prepared for. I didn’t realize how much he had bulked up for the film. In the short amount of time I’ve known him, he’s transformed from a good looking kid into something more. When we first met, several months ago for introductions, he seemed more withdrawn and less confident, also physically smaller. Whereas now, his arm is solid, and warm, and so very inviting. When I involuntarily squeeze it to get his attention, I find my touch is lingering. Unbeknownst to me, my hand has slid to his clavicle and is resting lightly just above his pectoral muscle. I think I’m talking, I’m sure of it, but my palm is radiating heat both from the touch and the quickened pulse that I can feel under my hand. When I look up, I’m about to get lost in his eyes. I clear my throat to try and re-center myself.

“Uh, okay? So… lets just do one more take the way we rehearsed.”

I drop my hand and quickly turn. He reaches out to grab it before I take a step. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble. I’ll do it the way we rehearsed.”

“No, no. No worries Josh. I just want to make sure that we have enough of the right footage that we won’t have to treat in post production. That’s all. You’re perfect.” 

He doesn’t let go after my comment, but I don’t step away either. I look down at our joined hands, and he’s slowly rubbing mine with his thumb. I cough out a warning, and he drops my hand while I quickly turn to I go back behind the monitor. While readjusting my headset I look into the monitor, and for a millisecond, his virtual eyes catch mine. I can feel the flush rushing to my cheeks, betraying the calm exterior I am trying to portray. 

Its been awhile since I’ve felt that crackle of electricity. That static when someone likes you in more than a genial way. Its an instinctual and primal, so when I cross my legs I’m surprised that I’m slick at the chaste touches we’ve just shared. Why is my heart racing like this? He’s just an actor, albeit a good looking one, who happens to be pretty good at acting, but hes only an actor. 

While the shot continues, my thoughts drift to when this last happened. When was it that my body desired this? That this animalistic feel in the pit of my belly was the cause of… what? When? I can’t seem to pinpoint it, and its upsetting. Past lovers faces flit in and out of my mind, (all four of them) but I’m struggling to remember if any of them came close to this kind of reaction? Did none of them make my heart race like this? Did none of them make my palms sweaty and yearn for more than just modest glances of exposed skin? 

What could it be that is causing me to have this reaction to Josh? Its not like I’ve not been with handsome men before? Maybe it has to do with the fact that I’m older now? They call them the dirty thirties for a reason, I suppose. Even though I have calmed in recent years, I am much more ‘sexual’ than I ever was. They say women in their 30’s are in their sexual prime? Could that be it? 

I know what it takes to get me there, and I know how to do it on my own. Maybe that’s it. It’s been… what? Maybe 2 months? Geeze that’s bad. 2 months since I’ve had a really good orgasm? And that one was a solo experience. It’s been awhile since I’ve had a partner ramming into me full steam ahead, to the point where you can taste it in the back of your molars. 

Ugh. Not okay. I should not be thinking about this now.

I refuse to have this happen to me because of my hormones. I cannot think of him hovering above me, dripping with sweat, eyes clenched tight in concentration with my ankles dangling by his ears as he charges into me. His chest heaving with the effort, while his veined arms are straining, and strong, on either side of my head holding him at just the right angle so he hits it. every. damned. time. His thrusts plumbing my depths, while a hand moves to my waist holding me down into the mattress while he swivels his hips into my…. AAARRRGGGH! NO! 

THIS.   
IS.   
NOT.   
OKAY. 

I wince when I realize that my inner dialogue has unwittingly verbalized itself in the form of a whimper, when the 2nd AD lightly taps my shoulder to ask if I’m alright. I wave her off, and have to remind myself, he is not my type. Yes, he may be handsome, charming, but he is not my type. And he’s an actor, nope! Not gonna happen. 

Damnit! Focus girl!!

He completes the shot, as rehearsed, and then is quietly excused. He lingers for a bit, looking somewhat like a lost puppy. It would be adorable, maybe even sexy, if it weren’t so annoying that his scent is starting to make my palms sweaty again, something of a strange mix between flour and man. That musky scent of someone who has just exerted themselves just enough to pheremonally call out to everyone within a 20 foot radius that he’s here, and he won’t be ignored. 

It can’t just be me that is feeling this way, right? I look around and take note of the other women nearby. I can’t really tell their reaction to him but they have got to be picking up on this, right? It’s gotta be a full moon - and we’re all on the same cycle… yep… I’ve got about… hrmmm… yeah… about a week before I’m due for monthly closure. That has to be it. This entire set is all on the same fucking cycle, and because I’m in the center of every damned little thing going on, of course I picked up on it. That makes more sense. Its just that time of the month. Its not him and his perfect fucking face, or taut and toned body just calling out to be… 

Stop it. Just stop it. 

Josh approaches hesitantly, asking if I’m certain that he’s not needed. I ask him to chat with the 2nd AD while I mentally prepare and physically check off the list of shots in my head. I’ve got about 15 more to complete before I have to meet up with Francis for review of dailies. So no, I guess it should be fine for him to hang about - I don’t believe he’s needed anywhere at this very moment. Its when he leans in a little too closely and I fumble my clipboard and pen, I realize that I am going to have to really focus to keep my hormones in check. 

I go about the remainder of the afternoon compiling the exterior and crowd shots, with Josh shadowing me. He is observant, and quiet, not at all intrusive. Its actually helpful for him to be here rather than his stand in, as I realize at the last moment, that I can actually get several additional shots with him present. But its when he stands behind me and his hand accidentally glances against the middle of my back, I realize that he’s distracting me to the point of confusion. 

I turn to tell him to give me some room and stand back, but it comes out as a snarling growl instead of as simple request. He cowers and slinks away to his trailer. I’m frustrated with my hormones and I realize that I’ve crossed a line.

Pretty dangerous for someone in my position, and though I am loathe to admit it, being a crew member means that I still have to cater to the actors to make sure that they stay happy. My career depends upon being cordial with all of the ‘creatives,’ especially the actors, and I may have just royally fucked that up. I sigh inwardly and realize that I’m going to have to do my best to make it up to him, somehow. 

~*~*~*~*~

After screening all of the dailies with Francis, I feel awkward and unfocused. I’m still trying to figure out how to patch things up with Josh. More than anything I realize that I don’t necessarily trust myself with him, if for no other reason than I don’t know how my body will react to being in such close proximity to his beautiful body with his broad shoulders and… 

“Hey Beth, what’s wrong? You not satisfied with the shots?” Francis leans over to ask, concern written clearly on his face. 

I snap back at attention, explain my current state,(leaving out the sexual frustration part,) and he smiles broadly. 

“Don’t worry yourself too much. He is a good guy, and he’ll probably understand the stress you were under. Just go and apologize. Everything will be forgotten.” 

I let out an involuntary groan. To apologize means that I will have to be in the same room with him possibly within touching distance. And my hormones have been causing me to act questionably. Even though it’s late in the day, I have to do this now to avoid any possible lingering misunderstanding. I check my address listing for where each of the stars are housed, and make my way to his place.

Upon arriving I realize that I probably should have called first, as there is no guarantee that he’s even home. It’s 10 pm and he’s likely to be out on the town enjoying Atlanta rather than resting up for tomorrows morning shooting schedule. I’m standing in front of his door, holding my phone at the ready and debating upon calling or knocking when I’m shocked that the door opens.

“Oh! Hi!” I stammer out, taking a reactionary step back. 

“Hi Elizabeth!” 

I love how he says my full name.

“What can I help you with?”

I stand - slack jawed and my mouth has suddenly gone dry at the sight of him in a simple leather jacket, ballcap, plum-smuggling jeans and a one-size too small shirt. I can barely remember how to form words when he smiles at me, causing me to blush like a giddy fangirl.

His eyes are so very green, I never noticed how they could change color like that. 

 

“Is something wrong?” His face clouds over with concern, as he steps towards me. I try to talk, to form sounds with my mouth, but the scent of him freshly washed and warm is preventing me from moving, let alone talking. 

“Elizabeth, are you okay? You look kinda off… why don’t you come in and sit down.”

He places an arm over my shoulder to guide me into his condo, and I follow dumbstruck and mute. He sits me down, and I leaves to retrieve a glass of water. When he is out of sight, I finally snap to and realize that I’m inside of his condo, alone, with him. I shake my head to regain control of my wits. Next I look up he’s nearly upon me. I best get my apology out now before I have another mute moment.

I push myself up from my seated position and in the process knock the cold glass of water out of his hands and all over us. I gasp in reaction to the unexpected chill against my chest, and curse my clumsiness aloud. I had changed into a clean white shirt before coming over, and looking down at the puddle forming on his floor I am hopeful that my clothing hasn’t become completely transparent. I am not so lucky. I close my eyes in frustration as I cuss once more at my continuing streak of bad luck when I realize that you can see my lacy undergarments, which offer no modesty to the naked eye. I shut my eyes tight while I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh in resignation at my current situation. 

I realize after several long moments that I’ve not heard him move. I open my eyes to trail them up from the floor to see that he too is also soaked down the front. I can clearly make out the defined ridges of his chest and abdomen and can even see the dark patch of his happy trail disappearing into this jeans.

 

When my sight moves above his chest I notice that he is staring as well. Instinctively I cover myself with my arms, and he shakes his head and coughs out an apology. 

 

Our eyes catch one another, and I see him lick his lips. I open my mouth to speak, breaking the quiet of the moment.

“I’m… I’m really sorry about that… let me… uh…let me get you a towel…and something dry…”

He turns and strides off toward what I’m guessing is his bedroom. 

I yell after him, “No, no… it was all my fault, I’m a complete klutz. I shouldn’t have jumped up like that.”

I realize that he should probably get more than just one towel, so I follow to him to his bedroom where he has left the door wide open. I can see his reflection in a floor length mirror opposite him. He pulls off his wet and clinging shirt to reveal the most glorious adonis-like form, complete with farmer tan. I’m cemented to the spot and realize that I’m drooling. A warm and wet sensation forms below my waist as I’m freely imagining that chest of his rubbing passionately against mine. He darts into the en-suite bathroom to get a towel and returns with one draped over his neck, his hair mussed, and one in his hands when he catches me glaring. I was going to speak.. wasn’t I? He’s stairing again, and my mouth is refusing to cooperate. I’m so confused, and wet, and….

“….uh you should probably get something for the puddle as well…”

 

FUUUUCCCKKK! I’m gonna need more than a towel for the puddle of goo you’re turning me into. 

He smiles impishly and pulls the towel from around his neck and reaches into his dresser to pull out two shirts. He pulls one shirt over his head, walks towards me as he hands me the dry towel and leans in close to brush his 5 O’Clock shadow against my ear. “I was thinking the same thing.”

I laugh nervously and gingerly take the towel and shirt from him. We’re staring at one another while I clutch the towel to my chest, hoping it can keep my heart from leaping out of my throat while I try my best to keep from getting lost in his eyes. I’ve been gazing for a moment longer than I should so I break the tension by looking around to find out where I can change out of my shirt.

“I’ll go clean up the mess.” He nods in the direction of his kitchen. “You can change in my room if you want.” He says as he thumbs over his shoulder in the direction of his bedroom. 

“Thanks.” 

I slide past him, accidentally brushing up against his chest, and throw a look over my shoulder to see him watch me saunter into his room. He has this adorable half-smile he throws me and I can make out a slight blush flushing his face. He turns to go clean up and I place my hand on the door. I watch him bend over to clean and decide to leave the door ajar just enough, as he might think its rude of me to shut the door completely. 

I walk into the room and stand in front of the mirror to assess the damage. Yep… he could see everything, so really there is no damage in just taking off my bra and going without. I strip down to my skin and then towel off both myself and my clothing before pulling the dry shirt on. Once my head pops out of the neck of his t-shirt, I can see him gaping at me from the doorway.

“Are you finding everything okay?” He stammers out, licking his bottom lip and not breaking eye contact.

I should probably be a bit more coy…but GOD! How I want to bite that lip of his.

I address him via the mirror. “Do you have a dryer here? Or someplace for me to hang my stuff up to dry?”

Where is this sexy-breathy drawl coming from? What am I doing?

He walks in to offers a hand while reaches for my wet clothing, “I can take it.” I turn and move towards him to give him the wet clothing and misjudged his pace towards me and our distance. I bump into him full on, chest-to-chest, and I can feel my and his heartbeat increase tenfold. He grabs me by my biceps to keep me from falling, and I look up to see his pupils dilate, and I can feel my breathing hitch. My nipples are now rock hard at the sensation of the flimsy pieces of cotton between us, and I can feel his excitement slowly growing against my hip. He audibly gulps, and I…I… who am I again?

Without thinking, I tip my head up and kiss him lightly on the lips while his scent fills my nostrils and clouds my higher mental functions. He instinctively flexes his hands causing me to I drop the wet clothes and towel to close the space between us. He returns the kiss, and deepens it as his lips and tongue cavort across my now impatient mouth. His hands slide down to the small of my back and he pulls me into him. 

Oh My GOD! His mouth is amazing. 

I clutch the front of his shirt with both hands to pull him into me. More! I want MORE! Hands, lips, HIM… all of it. The need to breathe overwhelms my raging desire and I tilt my head back for air, while his lips traverse the line of my jaw and down to my neck. He pecks and nips in between breathy moans escaping from my mouth. His hand slides up my side and under his shirt but pauses, like he’s waiting for permission.

I moan in response, maybe I’ve said yes or something like it, but thankfully he’s understood as I can feel him smile against the delicate skin below my ear. He pulls away and I gasp at the sudden temperature change. His eyes dart all over my face while both of his hands are on my waist. I can’t wait anymore and his timidity is frustrating my desire to see him naked. Instead of waiting I forcibly, yet clumsily, yank his shirt off. Once I’ve divested him of his top, he’s taken my lead and does the same to me with much more grace and speed. The room is cold in comparison to the heat we’re generating and goosebumps quickly form on my chest. 

He’s holding eye contact as a hand gently cups my left, and then my right breast. His hands are softer than I expected, as he drags his thumbs across my nipples to tweak them in time with one another. I gasp and arch into his touch involuntarily at the simultaneous stimulation. I’m a wanting needy puddle of wet hot desire at such a simple touch. 

Oh My God! It has been too long since someone has touched me like this.

“You like that?”

“yessssssssssssss! Oh God! Yes!”

I clamp my eyes shut as my senses are sputtering and sizzling from his massage. I can feel my big ‘O’ building from the pit of my groin, and I grab his hips to tilt him towards me in the chance to get some friction against my greedy, throbbing, center. The moment he makes contact the sensation shoots through the both of us. He’s grunting, I’m moaning and we’re both hungrily grinding into one another. Although we are still in our respective jeans but topless, this is possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever done.

He releases a breast to slide a hand behind my neck and pulls me in for a kiss. His lips, his nose his chest, rubbing against my skin, his labored breathing against my ear, and I can see stars. I’m…I’m… oh my… how I’ve missed this… a soundless scream on my lips, my mind is popping and fizzing in overload. I am overflowing like an overfilled soda cup brimming over the edges and sticky wet with too much pent up energy needing release. I gulp for air and it begins again. I’m forcibly shaking from my thighs and abdomen as the tremor causes me lose my footing. But Josh has me firmly to him, as he gropes my ass and lifts me a just the right angle and I can seriously feel him through his jeans. We’re both wet from the friction and… and… 

“OH! MY!” 

“ung, unf… yes… uhhh… Elizabeth!!!”

He bites softly into my neck as he muffles a moan in my shoulder then slumps into me. In the slow lifting my my mental fog I can hear a pounding on the door. He snaps his head up in surprize, and quickly but gently, guides me down to his bed. I lay back still trying to catch my breath and pull my mental state together. 

He returns in what feels like seconds but hasn’t approached. I lift my head to see he’s standing in the doorway, wearing only a towel, and nervously rubbing the back of his neck with a worried look on his face. As my head clears, I realize the huge mistake we’ve made. I slap my hands to my face in the hopes that when I open them this will all be some kind of sexually frustrated dream. No luck in that arena, as I feel him sit down next to me in the bed and reach over to put a hand to my wrist. 

“Hey! I’m… I’m sorry… but…I.. I don’t regret this… I don’t want you to think that…. Please don’t cover your face…. Elizabeth?”

I peek out from in-between my fingers…. nope… he’s actually here. That actually happened. I groan at my stupidity and raging hormones. I’ve completely and royally fucked up. I roll over onto my stomach to hide my growing frustration and confusion. I bury my face into the comforter in the hopes that I can smother myself to death in the high-count sheets. Then I realize that it won’t help my situation to have Josh explain to the police why my half-naked, dead body is on his bed. 

“Fuck!… Fuckety, fuck, fuck, FUCK! What have I done? What. Have. I. Done?”

I snap to, launch myself out of the bed, and hurriedly pick up the previously discarded shirt. I yank it over my head and race for the door. I cannot be here. This did not just happen. If I get out of her fast enough maybe I can forget his hands on me, his lips on my neck… Shit! I am so screwed. With my head down searching frantically for my belongings, I can hear him follow me into his living room. 

“Wait! Wait, Elizabeth… Where are you going? What’s wrong?”

I stop what I’m doing. Damn it! I was hoping that he would just let me leave. Now I have to address this. 

“Josh…” I turn to address him face to face, only to be taken aback by the towel that is barely hanging over his hips, opening slightly to show the dip of his abdominal muscles and his thigh. His sturdy legs, muscles tensing and inner thighs defining a shadow of….

“Oh my god! Fucking cover up for christsakes. I can’t talk to you like that…” 

He shrugs and smiles that impish half smile again, pissing me off all the more. “I don’t see why? I mean you didn’t seem to mind a moment ago”

“Yeah well, I wasn’t thinking a moment ago…fine! Whatever!” I throw my arms up in frustration and turn my back to him and face the door to continue. 

“Look, this didn’t happen. No one can know, and I mean no one. Not your friends, confidants, not even your diary. I’m… I’m sorry I seduced you. I don’t know what I was thinking… but this didn’t…it couldn’t…”

“Yes it did! And we both seemed to enjoy the hell out of it."

I drop my head and huff out a breath in confusion. Hugging myself I shake my head in resignation of the complete and utter fuck-up that I’ve just committed, and reach for the door knob.

"Elizabeth, please don’t leave…”

I can feel his hands slip gently around my waist pulling me to him. His chest is now flush against my back while he leans over my shoulder to continue. I clench my eyes shut to will away the feeling of his bare chest against my clothed skin, so warm and comforting.

“Look, don’t leave. I like you, I really do. I was just worried because this is a slightly complicated situation, but we’ve done nothing wrong.” He says with a surprising amount of earnestness and confidence in his voice. I sigh in response. 

You have no idea how complicated I’ve just made things. 

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, there is no need to run. We’re both adults, and I don’t think you can deny that there is an attraction here? Right?”

I drop my head into my hands, again, and a million things flit through my mind all at once. All of the pros and cons of even considering taking this to the next step. Its getting harder and harder to focus on the one thing that should be forcing me to leave while I feel him pull me closer. He is whispering my name against my neck in between gentle kisses. That one thing that should spirit me away, is fading from my minds as his lips glide against my neck and hips swivel against my backside. 

“Elizabeth…please… stay.”

In a last ditch effort to keep my wits about me, I lurch for the door knob from the waist. But like a chinese puzzle, he pulls my backside against his ready for action soldier and playfully grinds into me. What little composure I had, is now gone. It feels so damned good to have him against me. When one of his hands slides underneath my jeans and he cups me from the front while holding me to him with his other hand that I… I… why I am trying to leave? 

“You can’t tell me you don’t like this? I can feel how much you do.” 

I bend further forward as one of his free hands slides underneath his shirt and… A kiss there, his fingers pushing, circling, tweaking me below…. and what? What was I going to say? I can feel the jerky motions of his hand caught between by jeans and panties, when I place my free hand over his, and drop my head to the floor to lose myself, again.


	3. Binge and Purge

This feeling is sensational. 

I’ve not had this sense of release for so long, that I’d forgotten what it felt like to be so satisfied. To feel so feminine and whole in my own skin. I’m panting, hard, from the exertion. Sweat, salty on my tongue from licking my lips for the umpteenth time, makes me realize that I am incredibly thirsty from all of the effort. I smile broadly at the fact that I am so damned happy for the cause of the dehydration. I close my eyes and relish this moment of bliss.

 

My skin is still buzzing and the warm tingling residue of my orgasm that causes a sigh of satisfaction to come from my lips. I feel is this small squirmy sensation at the pit of my belly which makes me giggle like a simpering schoolgirl. I touch both lips shyly in awe at this previously lost sensation. I cup my hand over my most sensitive of places in attempt to keep at bay another wave of joy eaking its way to the fore. I don’t think if I can physically handle another, and the fact that they are coming now of their own accord means I’ve passed my peak of 4 in a row. I can’t help but chuckle some at the fact that I am sticky, spent, sore and satisfied. 

I can easily say has been more than 3 years since I have been at this place and a smile spreads across my entire aura. I feel a body roll over to place a gentle kiss on my shoulder, and humming happily onto my skin. The smell is a little foreign to what I suspect I should be smelling, and when his hand snakes playfully up my belly, I don’t feel the coarseness I expect to feel. Then a breath is released, and I hear a familiar, but again unexpected voice. 

“Wow…. yeah… wow… uh… I’m gonna get some water, and then be right back. Don’t run away on me, okay?”

I clench my eyes closed as the bliss fades immediately when I realize I shouldn’t feel this way. Fuck it all. I have really, really messed up. I keep my eyes closed as I nod my head yes. I can feel his body slip away and the mattress normalizes under the weight of only one person.

The tears are inevitable, and the guilt is starting to close my throat. I should not have done this. I let my physical needs cloud my judgment, and have completely violated my own morals. The tears well up and freely slide down my cheeks and begin to pool into my ears. I turn over onto my side and curl up into the fetal position, cupping my hands to my face, my emotions getting the better of me. 

“Not the reaction I expect…” a slight chuckle and then a kiss on my shoulder, which slowly lingers and then moves to just behind my ear. The next question is less playful, more concerned, “What’s wrong? Please, Elizabeth tell me what’s the matter?” 

I can feel his body curl up against mine to wrap me up into a hug. His hand is cool from previously holding the glass of water and is now attempting to calm me by petting my arm softly. He continues to kiss my neck, and I can hear the worry in his voice as he continues to plead with me to tell him what’s going on. The tears stop, and I slowly relax my muscles. 

I feel horrible and I know, instinctively, what I’ve done is bad. Really, really bad. Nevermind the fact that he is younger than me, I should never have crossed the line and taken advantage of my position with him. My mind is whirring with possibilities of how much trouble I could be in, when I hear the urgency in his voice and open my eyes to see the look of worry on his face. I can’t deal with all of the thoughts screaming for attention in my head, so I do the one thing I know will shut them all out, and kiss him. Hard. 

He hesitates at first, and starts to give in. I can feel him harden against my thigh, and I turn into his arms, urgently pulling and grasping at his body. I need him to drown out all of my worries and complications with the feel of him against me, inside of me. I wrap my legs around his waist and start to frantically rub against him, desperate for the friction that will let me forget the consequences of what I’m doing, of what I’ve done. I’m pulling him to me in the hopes that the coming bliss will wipe away this soul crushing guilt. Instead of giving in, he pulls away from me looking confused and flustered. 

“Elizabeth, calm down… seriously tell me what’s wrong?”

“Ugh! Are you kidding me!? I’m dry humping you and you want to talk? Can’t you just go with it?”

“Normally I’d say yes, but somethings not right.”

I drop my legs from around his waist and fall back to the mattress with an exhausted sigh. I really don’t want to think about what I’ve done, nor what it will mean. I take a deep breath and look at his hazel eyes as they search my face for an answer. 

“okay…I…uh…you…”

Shit, where do I begin?

“You need to know that…” I can hear the urgent ringing of my phone. I groan. 

I always forget to turn that damned phone off. 

“Shit! I have to get that Josh.”

He rolls off of me, and I go searching for my phone. When I find it I see Brian’s name on screen. Talk about uncanny timing, his ears must have been burning. I accept the call. 

“Hey” I say softly. I turn away from Josh, who is languidly spread out over his sex-covered sheets, mouthing a question I can’t really read on his lips. I can’t focus with him laying there tented sheet over a particular body part I would prefer to be occupied with rather than this call. I throw up a finger to signal I need a moment to take the call and turn away to keep my wits about me. 

“Hey baby. I just wanted to tell you that I’ve got a lead on my movie. That and I missed you.”

“That’s great news Brian. But I’m kinda busy right now… I…”

“Hey, did you hear me? I miss you…” 

I sigh as that is normally Brian’s queue to me that he wants to have phone sex. I slap a palm to my face. He really has an unnerving sense of bad timing. I groan audibly. 

“What! don’t you wanna hear how hard I am right now…for you?”

“Look, Brian, now isn’t a good time. I can’t really do this right now.”

“Never stopped you before my dirty girl. Come on, just play along… please? For your husband?” 

His whining entreaty cuts through me. My heart clenches with the admission of what I’ve just done. I was hoping that if I didn’t admit it to myself it wouldn’t be true.

But I can’t avoid it, I’m an cuckold. 

The wave of guilt starts anew, but before I can even give into it, I can hear Brian’s heavy panting on the other end of the line. If I say anything to oblige him, I’m about to make the situation with Josh unbearably bad. If I don’t play along, Brian will start a fight which won’t help either. 

I hate that about Brian. His toddler-like selfishness always trumping my needs. I don’t even get a say, and he just assumes that I’m going to drop whatever I’m doing to satisfy him. I can hear the tell-tale sounds of flesh rubbing against flesh and I flush with anger and embarrassment at my predicament. Jesus! He couldn’t even wait for me to agree to this! What if I had really been on set?! No one else in the world matters but him, and when he doesn’t get his way he throws a tantrum. I can’t deal with him and his egotistical need to always come first. I make a quick retreat to Josh’s bathroom, shut the door behind me and then lean up against it. 

Quick! Think of anything to get him off the phone!!

“Brian, I said no. I…I can’t do this. I’m…I’m…on set and…”

“Kinda late to be on set isn’t it Liz? Come on…unf…I can see your tits bouncing now…”

“No! Brian! I said, I’m busy! We can do this later. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“Fucking hell Liz! You are such a selfish bitch sometimes. I call you with good news and you fucking cut me down. I can’t believe you sometimes.” 

“What the…good news? You’ve said you got a lead, so what. You’ve had a million leads in the past month but nothing has come of them.” I realize my voice is raised louder than it should be, so I cup my hand over the receiver and hushedly continue. “How many times do you want me to jump for joy? I mean really? Celebratory phone sex when I told you I’m…I’m working!”

Yeah work. If that’s what you call getting your brains fucked out by the male lead of the movie you’re working on. 

I quickly stammer out the rest in the hopes that it will end this conversation. “At least respect the fact that I’m trying to keep us housed and fed.”

“You know what? Fuck you Liz.” The line goes dead. 

I hang my head in defeat, and go to sit on the edge of the bathtub. I know that this fight isn’t a big one and when we talk later he will have forgotten everything with some soothing ego-stroking words which will emotionally and physically drain me. 3 years we’ve been together and Brian is so damned predictable. He gets good news and he wants sex. I get good news and he could care less. Its exhausting that even now when I’m trying my damndest to keep everything together, he’s off on some pie-in-the-sky dream of becoming a director. Barely lifting a finger to help, and never once listening to me and respecting my needs. 

You know what Elizabeth, Fuck him! 

However, I still have to deal with the fact that I’m in another mans bathroom, naked, and desperately needing to get home to straighten out my head. First things first, I need to wash off what I’ve done. So I place my phone on the sink, and turn on Josh’s shower. 

As I stand under the scorching heat of the shower head, I hear the door open and feel the cold rush of air against my skin. I turn to face the wall, because I can’t deal with two needy men right now, one needing an ego stroking, And the other? Well, I don’t really know what he wants, but it’s gotta be something that I shouldn’t be giving to him anyhow. (At least in the non-professional sense.)

“Elizabeth? Everything okay?”

Fuck. I have to get out of here. Lie!… Lie your ass off.

“Yeah, just some… um… personal stuff I’ve got to deal with.”

“So… uh… when will we be able to see one another again?”

I yell over the sound of the shower, as I frantically scrub away all of this guilt. “Uh… probably in less than 8 hours…I mean I’ve got to see you on set. Right?” I grimace at the unconvincing tone of my awful nonchalant response. 

If I treat this as a stupid, stupid mistake… maybe he can let it go. Please, please be one of those horny 20-somethings that can just “sport fuck” and move on. 

He pulls the shower curtain aside to stare me down. “You know what I meant. Come on Elizabeth. What’s really going on here? Is it something I did… or is it…?”

“No! God no.” 

I chuckle lightly at the thought that he would even consider himself anything other than superb in the sack, or that he would consider me… as out of his league? Wow. That’s incredibly flattering now that I take a moment to consider it. I look over my shoulder to face him, and as I do I see him quickly retract his arm, like he just got caught doing something he shouldn’t. It dawns on me that he’s intimidated! Its sweet and endearing. It softens my heart to the point where I cannot think of anything to do about that other than to ask, 

“Do you…uh…want me to stay?”

I turn to face him and his smile and eyes are so bright you could light up half of Atlanta from the megawatts he puts out. “Yes! of course I want you to stay. But what I really want to do is to join you. Can I?” I giggle at the sight of his second head pointing directly at me. The fact that he’s ready to go again causes a rush of heat to my core. My rational brain shuts down at the thought of yet another orgasm as a result of this beautiful specimen of masculinity. 

“Of course! It’s your shower after all.” 

I step aside to give him room. Once ensconced in the confines of of the shower he moves in behind me and proceeds to kiss me on the shoulder, while his hands slowly glide down my sides. He pulls my hips against his and I gasp when I feel his stiffness nudge against my backside. My prior resolve to get out of here in a hurry washes down the drain. I melt into his touch, while the rest of my reserves about how wrong this is dissipates with the steam slowly filling the room. 

I moan as his lips traverse the length of my shoulders. The touch sends shivers down my spine, despite the heat of the shower. I turn in his arms while he slides a hand to the back of my head and pulls me in for a deep kiss. His other hand cups, then squeezes my ass. I pull him into me by hitching a thigh over his hip. He responds with a gentle tug on my hair forcing me to present my neck. He nips and licks across my jawline and down to the juncture of my neck and clavicle. I’m panting as his hands roam along my warm wet skin, and his tongue dances against that sensitive spot between my breasts. I twine my leg around his hip, pulling his erection into me to create more friction and get a joyous treat of his bulbous head glancing against my clit.

I involuntarily tense at the touch, still sensitive from my prior releases, and inevitably destroy this romantic moment by slipping. I lose my remaining foothold, and in a feat of unexpected athleticism, Josh recovers and keeps us from tumbling out of the shower. Unfortunately his save causes my head to connect with the shower wall. My skull makes a loud thunk that seems to resound through the room. I can hear him laugh, but the pounding in my head makes it difficult to focus on where the sound is coming from. 

“Oh man, I should keep you away from water of all kinds. You okay?”

I nod my head in the affirmative, and wince in pain from the throb that pulses through my sinuses. 

“Okay, no more shower for you. Lets get you to a softer surface. Hold on.”

I wrap my arms a little tighter around his neck. In a deft move, he swings my legs into his arms, shuts off the water, grabs a towel, then proceeds to carry me bridal style over to his bed. My head nestled into the crook of his neck, I relax into the comforting feeling of his warmth cocooning me. I feel so comfortable in his arms, that the desire to drift off into sleep is overwhelming. I must have drifted off for a bit, because I feel a soft peck on my cheek and open my eyes to see Josh standing over me in his pajama bottoms. 

“Hey sleeping beauty, I thought I’d let you sleep for a bit. You had a nasty thunk on the head there. You feeling any better?”

I rub my eyes to look around and see that I’m wearing one of Josh’s t-shirts. He’s tucked me into his bed, neatly folded my clothes, and placed them on a chair beside his dresser. I’m embarrassed to have fallen asleep on him, and I go to move out of the bed. He gently places a palm on my shoulder, and sinks down to my level. He reaches up to cup my cheek and look me in the eye.

“Hold on Elizabeth, I need to see how you are feeling? Make sure you didn’t have a concussion or anything. I looked it up…uh…Your head? Does it feel any worse than before?”

I lie and tell him I’m fine. That I should go. Really I just need to get out of here, as the longer I stay the less resolve I have to not give in to what I really want to do which is yank his loose fitting pajama bottoms down and take him into my mouth. 

“I think, for your own good, you should probably stay here tonight?”

“My own good? Are you trying to get another go at me?”

“Well I wouldn’t mind it if you wanted to…ahem…go at it again, but really I’m more concerned about you having a concussion. You hit your head pretty hard. It would be ungentlemanly of me to let you simply leave. That, and…I like the thought of waking up with you.”

“Concussion? That’s a tad melodramatic don’t you think? I’m fine really… I’ve overstayed my welcome. I…I should get going.”

“Wait Elizabeth, please. What’s really going on here. You’re gonna give me a complex with all this running. Am I really that horrible?”

“No, its not you. You’re not horrible…”

“Don’t give me the ‘it’s not you it’s me’ speech. Come on, tell me what’s going on.”

I sigh. I guess he is right, I was about to tell Josh why we shouldn’t be together before I was interrupted by Brian. Who ended up being a complete prick anyhow. It pisses me off at how Brian always thinks of himself, even when I bend over backwards to make him feel better and he rarely lifts a finger to help me. I wince at the thought of the last time I got hurt and how uncaring and selfish Brian was about it. Yelling at me to just ‘walk it off’ because he wanted to get to the damned premiere so he could hobnob with my co-workers. That twisted ankle ended up being much worse after the fact because he didn’t help me. All he had to do was to stop for a damned minute rather than run off to go ‘network.’ 

Come to think of it, that twisted ankle was much less traumatic than me bonking my head. And he’s never offered to fold my clothes, nor take care of me. Now I’m thinking of that asshole instead of enjoying what I have sitting resplendently at my feet begging me to stay. 

Why in the hell should I be trying to run?

Its not like Brian hasn’t had his own dalliances that he thought I didn’t know about. He never treated our relationship as sacrosanct even when we were engaged. Fucking around with other women while I’m supposed to be the loyal one? Although he vowed once we got married that he wouldn’t do that ever again, but I’d be stupid to believe that he didn’t still stick his dick in any willing pussy. 

“Elizabeth?”

His question forces me back into the present. I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

"I… I guess I was trying to protect myself."

"Protect yourself from what? Me?"

I have to think about how to respond. I know that I still have to work with him for the next 4-6 months. How do I tell him that it was a slip of my mental faculties? That I was horny, He’s hot and, its been over 2 months since I’ve had a man touch me like that? That and I can’t stand my husband right now and if I stayed I’d be using Josh as a revenge fuck?

“Yes… I mean No. Maybe?” I shake my head, sending a tinge of pain to my forehead. This isn’t coming out the way I expected. He crooks an eyebrow in confusion.

“Honestly? Because sleeping with co-workers never ends well. Besides I’m bad for you, and this only complicates our working together.”

“Only if we make it complicated. Look. This…was…is good…really good. There is no way I can believe that this is bad for either of us. Can we at least explore where this will go before you shut it down?”

My head is starting to throb at his persistence. Why can’t he see reason? 

"The smart thing to do is call this an awesomely good one night stand and then go our separate ways. I…I’m sure I can do it, can you?"

"No. Especially when you make a backhanded compliment like that."

"Listen to reason Josh. This isn’t a good idea. Neither of us wants the kind of gossip that comes with an entanglement between the stars and crew. I…I ugh. I really shouldn’t…” I pinch the bridge of my nose and wince in pain at the headache that is forming behind my eyes. 

“How about instead we get you to a hospital?”

My head is really pounding now. Throbbing in pain and with the prospect that Josh is even considering doing this again, and that my asshole husband is being an asshole and…ugh. I guess the hospital isn’t such a sucky idea right now. 

“If I say yes, will you call me a cab?”

He agrees, and I re-dress myself. My head is drowning with thoughts, but once he takes my hand to guide me into the cab then slides his arm over my shoulder I feel relieved. I drift off to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat against my ear, and feel him wrap me into his embrace as he kisses my temple. Its so sweet, I may have the dt’s when I have to go back to my real life. 

I’m so fucked, and I couldn’t care less right now. It feels too good to care.


	4. Wound Tight and Ready to Pounce

I must have slept the entire way to the hospital, as next I know I’m being woken by gentle kisses. My head is nestled in Josh’s neck while the bright glare of the medicinally sterile lighting makes me wince in pain. I tuck my head further into him, and feel a floating sense of calm come over me. 

The next several hours he’s by my side, being incredibly patient with the hullabaloo over what is finally diagnosed as a concussion. Thankfully he’s not around when I have to fill out my paperwork listing my primary contacts/next of kin with Brian’s name. After the initial flurry of my arrival, there is much waiting, and silence, and more waiting. Finally released with a mound of paper the length of my leg after what feels like days, Josh escorts me home. 

“I’ll see you in a few then?” 

He’s painfully close, I can feel his breath puffing against my face. My heart picks up pace, and my head is churning with thoughts. Eyes closed, I tip my lips up to kiss him, and instead receive a peck on the forehead. I hiccup a confused sentence as his hand slides up my back, pressing us together. 

“According to the doctors, you need rest. Soon though?”

I rest my head to his chin, and I know that I shouldn’t promise anything, but his scent, these arms, and I…

“Yes, soon. I gotta call Francis anyhow. See you in a few.”

He pulls me into his arms, pressing me into his chest. I throw my arms round his neck and nuzzle into the crook under his chin, savoring this feeling, before diving back into my real life. When I pull away, the lack of warmth from his touch emphasizes the hole in my chest. The dawning realization of what I’m left to deal with. The door barely closed behind me, and I can feel the weight returning, the pain of the truth pulling me to the floor. 

Sliding down against the door, knees steepled to the ceiling, phone in hand, I make the necessary calls to tell the people who need to know what they need to know and then crawl my way into bed. Ensconced in the dark cloud of a down blanket, I sink into the mattress and smother my screams of frustration and fear. 

I wake the next day to a buzzing sound of my phone. With as little effort as possible I slap the phone to my head and croak a sleep laden “hello?”

Brian is on his way. 

Brian is coming here. And I have to face him. I have to… oh god the truth. I need to tell him…what? Everything? Do I lie? To his face? But he doesn’t deserve the truth. He’s never been upfront with me. I..I? Ugh I can’t think about this now. I drift back into sleep and let my nightmares take over. 

He’s panic and tears, and pulling at his hair. He’s melodramatic and beating his chest like an beta male who knows he’s beaten. He won’t give up, he’ll fight me tooth and nail. Take me for everything I’ve got because I betrayed him. I broke my vows, I’m an adulterer and I have to pay. Hes pointing an angry index finger into my chest, pushing me towards the balcony. 

“You’re not innocent, you don’t deserve someone like him.”

His face is morphing into Josh’s, and next I know I’m on on the precipice and I look down to see a blackness below me where I expect to see concrete. I turn to look at Brian, now Josh, and am clutching to the railing with all my force when Brian-Josh flat-palms my chest and I fall into the abyss.

I wake with a start, instinctively reaching out across the sheets to remind myself that I’m alone. I feel around and the cold edges of my phone warm under my searching fingertips. I pick it up and see that there is a text message from Josh. 

wanted to make sure ur ok. 

Then another a few minutes later

grapevine says you’re sick, can I come play dr? Srsly, can I see u?

I stare at it for a while contemplating what I should do. I do want to see him, he has a very calming sense about him that I find I am craving. I go so far as unlocking the screen and attempting to type quirky, then witty responses, only to delete them all. I finally settle on a simple and straightforward reply and am about to hit send, when another text comes through.

just landed, I’ll be there in 20. 

I groan. There’s no escaping it now. I have to tell Brian, and Josh. I reluctantly pull myself out of bed and shower. I honestly don’t know what I’m going to tell either of them, and wait under the falling water to try and sort my head out. The only thing I know for certain is that Josh has done more for me in 24 hours than Brian has in the past three years. I feel comforted and cared for with Josh, and I don’t think I could ever say that I’ve had that with Brian. Never mind the fact that I’ve probably had more orgasms in a shorter amount of time with Josh than I’ve had ever with any of my prior lovers. 

I shut of the shower off in time to hear the buzzer nagging me for attention. I was nervous about my resolve to act, but I figure that I need to do it now. No time like the present. I quickly hop out and to let Brian in, managing to get my underclothes on and my hair in a sloppy wet bun when I hear him banging, impatiently, on the door. 

Unmistakably Brian, no subtlety, no patience, all bluster and attention. I sigh as I wrap the robe around me. 

“I’m coming… hold on.”

No sooner are my hands on the knob, releasing the latch, and he’s busting his way through the door lifting me up by the waist and crushing his face against mine.

I pull myself away, pushing his forearms down. “Wait, Wait!! Where are you taking me?”

“Bedroom.” He drops his bag and continues to carry me, hoisted up by the waist, towards the closet. He opens it, only to be foiled. Undeterred, and me still aloft, he turns towards the bedroom. 

“Brian, wait!” More sloppy kisses covering my mouth “Mrrmph…what are you doing here?”

“I told you earlier sweetie. I got a call from the nurse, they said you were hurt, I had to come and see you.” A forceful kiss while he jiggles the handle to my bedroom door and he arches his eyebrows in victory.

“Plus, I heard that Nina Jacobs would be on set this week. I checked your calendar.” He smiles and dives onto my mouth. His teeth crack uncomfortably against mine while his tongue is slimes its way around my throat. He is searching out a way to suck down my uvula, and it prevents me from responding. 

Bastard. Leave it to him to turn my injury into his gain.

His hands make quick work of my robe and underwear. I have little time to protest, and he is inside of me. I gasp in reaction to the sudden intrusion. He smirks in satisfaction, thinking that its due to his size and skill, I don’t have the will to tell him to his face that I don’t want this. That this isn’t helping my need to rest, and I really don’t want to have sex right now. My pleas mean nothing to him right now, and I’ve found over the years to simply let him have his way so that I can get this over with faster.

 

Its gruff and stunted, this feels awkward and rushed. His veiny and calloused hands are on me, pushing, pulling, forcing me to comply. I oblige because the guilt tells my conscious I need to do this. This will reset the stage, and clear the books, and wipe my guilt clean.

I scrunch my face as I lift my chin to rest on his shoulder as he continues to grunt and thrust. His staccato motion is confusing. He is moving erratically, I can’t seem to figure out his timing. This feels wrong.

It is wrong.

 

I can’t catch up. Now I’m moving too quickly. I push, he pushes back. I attempt to angle differently and… OUCH! I’m using our safety word, I’m slapping him on the back. This is uncomfortable, it’s starting to hurt, but he can’t hear me over his climax. He releases and then rolls off of me.

I lay on the dirty sheets, abused and abandoned while Brian sighs in satisfaction then hops up and spiritedly walks away to the bathroom. He is humming happily, not with his ‘success’ in the bed but more likely with the prospect at getting a face-to-face with one of the executive producers of my movie. I was simply a physical need he wanted to have fulfilled at the moment he felt it. A pinching sensation behind my eyes starts to spread to my ears and across the top of my head at the rising frustration and anger at what I just let happen. I feel like I’ve betrayed Josh now, and I feel used. Again. 

 

He returns, kisses me on the forehead and shoulder. He flops back down onto the bed, semi dressed and puts his hands behind his head and leans against the wall. the image of him shirtless with a smirk of satisfaction only furthers my resolve to tell him everything. I slowly pull my robe back on, and wince in pain at a particularly sensitive spot on my hip where he had gripped me a little too hard. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have attacked you like that, but you look so sexy after you shower. And its been, like half a year, since we’ve seen each other.”

“Its only been 2 months. Must you always exaggerate?” My head is hurting again, and its no longer bearable. “Can you please get me a glass of water?” 

“Its your place, don’t you know where everything is?”

“Yes, but… please? My head hurts, and I need water to take my pills.”

“You know you shouldn’t take pain killers Liz. They make you weak.”

He’s such a dick. I’d almost prefer he be honest and come out and say I don’t want to, rather than try and weasel his way out of it. Plus I don’t need the lecture now. I’m sick, I hurt, and all I need right now is rest. Instead I get him barreling through my door, him treating me like a goddamned prostitute, and then telling me I don’t know a damned thing about my own body.

I’m walking back to the living room, when I hear a knock on the front door. I don’t think twice about how I look, as I’m wound up tightly and am seething with anger. When I go to yank the door open to a startled Josh. I’m do a double take to the sight of Josh with a small take-out bag, a Dvd, and a pair of drinks in a carrier. 

“I uh, thought I would bring by a care package to help soothe your recovery.” He lifts the bag above his waist, to indicate his gifts while I stand slack jawed at his unannounced and unexpected arrival at my front door. 

“I come bearing chicken soup, Ben and Jerrys, hot chocolate, and ‘The Notebook.’ Can I come in?”

I melt at the genuine sweetness of the gesture. But as I hear Brian moving about in the background my heart leaps into my ears. I realize that Brian is in the other room and I’m standing here in nothing but a robe. I can’t talk. I can’t think. I seriously can’t breathe… this can’t be happening. 

“Elizabeth you okay? You’ve gone pale again. Is that just something with you and doors?” He chuckles while he looks down at his feet shifting uncomfortably on his heels. I’m about to respond when I hear noise from behind me. I move quickly to try and close the gap between us. 

“I uh… I… I’m okay… thank you…but” I try to close the door discreetly hoping that I can figure out a way to get Josh out of here without Brian noticing.

“Hey babe, who’s at the door?” Brian yells from behind me. 

FUCK!!! I cannot believe my stupid luck. 

I turn to yell over my shoulder, “I got it!! it’s… uh…” and I turn to look him in the eye, and now Josh’s face has turned the pallor of the walls, pale and colorless. 

“I’m uh…I’m sorry I didn’t know you had guests. I’ll, um… yeah. That was kinda stupid of me not to call. I’ll just go now. Sorry to interrupt you.”

I lunge for him as he spins on his heels to leave. I manage to get a hold of his bicep, stopping his retreat down the hall. “No wait! Josh. Please this isn’t what you think, It’s…well…um…” I don’t get the chance to explain as Brian is now at the door behind us. 

“Hey! How ya doin… You’re Josh Hutcherson, aren’t you? Liz you didn’t tell me you knew Josh personally.” Brian slides his arm over my shoulder and tucks me into his side, causing me to flinch and clamp my eyes closed in defeat. I can’t… I just can’t believe my bad luck. 

I open them again to see Josh’s lips thin out, and his eyes narrow while he assesses Brian. It is momentary but I recognize it instantly as the male equivalent of the once-over. I can tell Josh is pissed, as he eyes him curiously. I can see the mental gears whirring in his mind, and want to get out of this conversation as as soon as possible. I know what both men want, and unfortunately one wants me, and the other wants the money and influence that the other can bring. Its a dangerously confusing mix and I need to get out of this bind faster than I think I know how to. 

I turn in Brian’s embrace to place my hands on his chest while trying push him back inside the condo. “Yeah, well I do work with him, and he was just leaving some get-well items.” Brian is too big for me and he doesn’t budge. I continue push him back into the condo, when he looks down at me like I’ve grown three heads. I give up on him and instead turn to face Josh thinking I can try and explain. Josh surprises me as he manages to keep a poker face in place. 

“So, thank you Josh for the food and movie, and I’ll likely see you back on set in a day or two.” I reach out to take the care-package from Josh who looks at me somewhat plainly as I can see he’s trying to work out what is going on. 

Brian steps in front of me to place himself between both Josh and I. “Now Liz, don’t be so ungrateful. Josh here was nice enough to come by and offer you a care package. The least we can do is to ask him inside for something to eat or drink? It would be rude of us not to. Please, please come in!” 

Brian shoves me behind him, and motions for Josh to come into the condo. As he reaches out a hand to place it on his shoulder, Josh steps back and looks at me in utter confusion. I see the opportunity I was looking for to give him the out he needs, and hopefully end this uncomfortable conversation quickly. I pipe up from behind Brian.

“Uh… I don’t think you can come in right now, aren’t they shooting the…um…Dining room table scene tonight?” I arch my eyebrows in hopes he can understand my sign language. 

Get.outta.here!

“Yes?” Thankfully he’s a much better actor than me, as my heart is in my throat and I can tell my voice is wavering. “Yes, they… I mean we, are. We’re on break while they get Liam and Jennifer ready in makeup. I just heard that you were under the weather and wanted to make sure that…”

Brian cuts him off as he suddenly sees his opportunity slipping through his fingers. 

“Please, you have time, don’t be in such a hurry. Makeup can take hours. Besides you and Liz are friends right? Its not an intrusion at all for you to come in? Please? Just stay for a cup of coffee… Liz can you make a pot for all of us?”

“Uh…” I’m gobsmacked, did Brian really just treat me like his servant, and make them coffee?

“Um, no thanks, besides I hear coffee isn’t good for a concussion anyhow. I should really be going.”

Brian turns to me now that Josh has addressed me directly, “Concussion? Liz, you didn’t tell me you had a concussion!”

“Actually Brian, I did. You just didn’t listen. Josh was there to help escort me to the hospital.”

Dammit! I spoke without thinking, now Josh’s eyes are wide with concern, and Brian is looking at me confusedly. Then a smirk spreads across his face as I can literally hear the gears whirring in his head on how to turn this to his advantage and somehow charm money or influence out of Josh. 

“Well then we absolutely need to ask him in to thank him for taking such good care of you!”

Brian turns from me and reaches out to put a hand over Josh’s shoulder to pull him close. I can see Josh tense with the action, as its a rather patronizing move to make. My head is throbbing harder at the prospect of this situation getting out of hand. I know that Brian is trying to network with my current lover/co-worker, angling to get something out of him. I bet if he even knew I had slept with Josh he wouldn’t care. He’d instead think of it as an opportunity for better or closer ties to the money and influence that Josh could wield. My frustration at the situation boils over and I completely lose it. 

I place myself between the two men and turn to push my finger into to Brian’s chest and puff up my own as best I can, “Brian! No! He has to leave. He cannot stay. He has to get back on set. The man has a job to do and it is not to entertain bullshit requests from the likes of you.”

I turn to face Josh before the fight begins, as I can feel and hear Brian gaping like a hooked fish behind me. “Thank you. The get-well care package is incredibly sweet. I really appreciate you taking the time to check on me. I’ll see you tomorrow on set and thank you properly. If you excuse me you have to be going now, as do I.” 

I give him the most sympathetic look I can muster, while I simultaneously hip-check Brian backwards into the condo. Josh stands stiff as a board in amazement while I am mouthing “Sorry, I’ll explain later” to him through the crack in the door. 

I rest my head against the fiberglass of the door and hope that it can contain the yelling that is about to begin. But I’m certain it won’t and at this point I could care less. Brian has pushed me to far. I am a tiger released from her cage. He is my prey and I’ve been stalking him for that perfect moment to tear him to shreds. 

Now is the time to pounce. Brian won’t survive the day.


	5. Whispering into the Wind

After nearly a half day of no communication, I am nervously bouncing my leg. I’m normally not this impatient regarding a girl, no a woman…but I’m really worried. Elizabeth did smack her head pretty hard, and I know how much it sucks to have a concussion. Thankfully everyone is able to get their shots done in only a couple of takes, so we’ve got some down time while they set up the next shot. I ask around about the schedule, subtling hoping that will lead me to Elizabeth, but am informed that she’s ‘sick’ and is resting.

 

I take out my cell phone, to….what? see her I guess? I’m wishing I’d be done so I could go see her, but there is at least a few more shots that need to be done before I can go. I have a need to make sure that she is okay. The doctors said that she needed to rest, but from what I know already about her, Elizabeth isn’t likely to rest for long.

I didn’t think it was possible to miss someone this much in such a short amount of time. I don’t hear anything back from my text so I figure that I can follow it up with a simple request. It doesn’t really feel like I’m being over-eager, and I’m feeling bad about having to leave her, especially since I was the cause of the injury. So I devise a simple plan to make sure I can see her without it being too aggressive. I mean I don’t think its too aggressive? I hope it isn’t.

When all of the shots are done, I make a run to pick up some get well items. I figure if I gather all of the stuff that would make her feel better, she won’t be able to turn me down. I mean aside from Kathryn, there really hasn’t been anyone in my life that I’d even consider returning to. At least not recently. I get the feeling that shes not like Kathryn even slightly…okay maybe some physical similarities, but I don’t get the feeling like she would treat me the same.

After hunting down all of the “get-well” items, I’m taking two steps at a time up the stairwell to Elizabeth’s apartment. I knock on the door, my heart in my throat, and my mouth has gone dry. There is no reason for me to be nervous, I’ve got this. The door whooshes open, and she’s in front of me in nothing but a robe. I nearly lose it at the site of her. I have to kick start my mouth into working again.

“I… uh…. thought I would bring by a care package to help soothe your recovery…. I come bearing chicken soup, Ben and Jerrys, hot chocolate, and ‘The Notebook.’ Can I come in?”

Her smile melts my insides. I’ve clinched it. It spreads to her eyes, and the half smirk that appears is genuine. I can feel it. Then as soon as it appears, she stiffens, and goes as pale as a sheet. Oh fuck… I didn’t shower after the shooting… I must stink? Or did I push it too fast… fuck!

“Elizabeth you okay? You’ve gone pale again. Is it something with you and doors?”

I try to sound lighthearted, like my guts aren’t in my feet. I look away to keep my embarrassment at bay.

“I uh… I… I’m okay… thank you…but”

“Hey babe, who’s at the door?” a male voice is yelling from inside her apartment.

What the FUCK!!!

She yells over her shoulder, “I got it!! it’s… uh…”

Its my turn to stiffen and blanch.

“I’m uh…I’m sorry I didn’t know you had guests. I’ll, um… yeah. That was kinda stupid of me not to call. I’ll just go now. Sorry to interrupt you.”

I need to get out of here as fast as possible. There is no way I’m going to be that guy again.

Fuck!

I should have known better than to think that someone like her would even go for someone like me. Damnit. I turn on my heel to get out of there as fast as possible when I feel her pull on my bicep, and her touch plants my feet.

“No wait! Josh. Please this isn’t what you think, It’s…well…um…” I’m not looking for an explanation, I just need to get out of here. I’m about to shake her free when her ‘male caller’ appears behind her. He’s older, I can guess maybe late 20’s, but much more than I could take on my own. I could see why she would have chosen him. He’s a type most women go for… tall, roguish… yeah I can’t compete with this.

“Hey! How ya doin… You’re Josh Hutcherson, aren’t you? Liz you didn’t tell me you knew Josh personally.”

The way he says her name is far too familiar, and then he wraps his arms around her pulling her into him in an obvious ownership pose. Yeah. I get it… you got her now… but I had her last night. Several times. My lips thin out as I know I can’t actually take him without there being some serious damage done, but I’m willing to think about it. Even if I don’t act on it.

She’s squirming in his grasp, so its obvious to everyone but him, that he’s not what she wants.

~*~*~*~

“Thank you. The get-well care package is incredibly sweet. I really appreciate you taking the time to check on me. I’ll see you tomorrow on set and thank you properly. If you excuse me you have to be going now, as do I.”

I stand there completely gobsmaked at the turn of events. She’s mouthing something that looks like “sorry” to me, but I can’t really tell. They way that Elizabeth, ‘Liz’ I guess, stopped him, Brian… (the sound of it makes bile rise onto my tongue) from asking me in… there’s more to this than I’m really privy to. Regardless, this is way too messy to get mucked up in. I turn on my heel to feel a buzz on my hip.

Its Jen. She and Liam are off to see a movie.

nah. go on without me.

come on! don’t be all debbie downer… come outside. be social. its good for you.

I head towards the elevators, needing to get out of the building no matter what.

I let you have my red ropes.

I really don’t feel like being social right now, but It’s near impossible to say no to Jennifer. I half-heartedly agree to meet up with her, as I really don’t want to disappoint her. Its been a tough shooting schedule lately, and even though I was looking forward to spending the evening with Elizabeth…fuck…that’s unlikely to happen.

Fuck my life. I just managed to really screw things up, royally. I couldn’t just bone some stupid fangirl or a co-star, I had to fall for the 1st AD… the one person I can’t avoid for six to seven days a week, probably for the next several months if not years now. And now only to find out that she’s been playing me!? that I’m… damnit.. I’m probably a revenge fuck from the looks of it?

I thought that it was a mutual attraction, but I guess I was wrong. Painfully wrong, again. My misunderstanding has now left me Alone, needy, feeling used and utterly pathetic. Shit. Why is it that I am a magnet for shit like this… why is it that women always get the better of me? That i’m a fucking comeback/rebound all of the damned time.

~*~*~*~

I’m in a dour mood when I finally meet up with Jen and Liam. They’ve been on and on about which movie to see, and I half heartedly comment about not really caring. When we get to the theater, of course there are fans about and they want pictures. Jen somehow manages to avoid the majority of the squealing and carrying on that Liam and I seem to get everywhere we go. Unfortunately for me, since Liam has publicly announced his engagement, most of the attention (unwanted right now) is thrown my way. I do my best, am as gracious as I can be… and thankfully these fans aren’t intrusive. There is one fan who is a bit too suggestive, and I do my best to extricate myself from the situation gracefully. Its those encounters are always the most awkward, especially when they aren’t coy or even subtle. It’s a point of hilarity most of the time… at least for Jen and Liam, but today its just furthering my depression about my current single status.

When we finally find a trio of seats, I take out my phone and fiddle with it under the guise of… I don’t know what… texting someone for more pity? Nah. That’s not gonna do. So instead I sigh to myself, and rub at the growing headache that is forming.

Jen puts her hand on top of mine and squeezes it knowingly. She looks at me with a smirk and a glint in her eyes like she can see everything in my head, then subtly tips her chin towards the screen. I swear telepathically she’s telling me to “let it go, and to enjoy myself.” I sigh again, smile in return and turn my palm up to let my fingers interlace with hers. She’s been more and more affectionate lately, and right now… I’m not gonna stop her. I’m just gonna be selfish and take advantage of it.

~*~*~*~*~*

After the credits roll by, I feel better. I hate that Jen was right, again… and so I tell her so. Her eyes brighten up and she is beaming. I’m pretty sure its at my admission, but her smile lingers longer than expected. Before the lights come up Liam quickly pulls out his phone to chat busily on his phone and then excuses himself to go skype with Miley. I look down to see that Jen is still holding my hand. She squeezes her hand in mine, which forces blood to rush in my ears.

She leans in against my neck to breathe into my ear, “So you gonna tell me what’s going on, or do I have to guess?”

I sigh into the question. The feeling of her lips ghosting over my ear is distracting. I know she means nothing by it, but its hard to deny the power that she had to elicit unwanted reactions from me. She probably thinks nothing of what she’s doing. She’s simply acting on her thoughts as they flit to her consciousness, like she always does. I take a breath to calm myself.

“Its nothing.”

She looks at me incredulously, eyebrows touching. She tugs our hands hand into her lap. I can feel the warmth of her hidden beneath the layers of cloth. I close my eyes into the lie,

“Seriously, nothing. I just….I got a text I shouldn’t have answered.”

Jen sighs, and begins to draw lazy figure eights on my hand. I open my eyes to see what she’s doing to watch her slowly nod while chewing her plump bottom lip. I can see her contemplating her surroundings, before she shrugs and then grabs my face. Gently cupping my cheeks and turning my face to her.

“You are stronger than you know… I just wish I could make you understand what the rest of us see.”

I’m startled that she would utter that…that specific line from the script. It couldn’t be more ironic considering that Elizabeth just shooed me off under the pretenses of shooting that very scene. As she holds my sight, her eyes momentarily dart to my lips, and I can feel the air between us crackle with energy as she moves closer to me.

I take a shallow breath, and the lights come up. The moment is gone. She drops her hands from my face and starts a nervous giggle. I open my mouth to say something… when she pats the back of my hand. She doesn’t move and starts to draw small circles on the back of my wrist.

“What the…when did you get all cryptic… and start stealing lines, by the way?”

She chuckles and then shrugs. She leans in to me, and then hesitates before pecking me on the cheek. Leaving me more confused. I watch her rise from her seat and look at me over her shoulder as she exits the row, “seemed appropriate for the situation…”

Jen stands in the isle, twitching her head towards the exit. “You comin?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I’m sitting comfortably on the couch in Jens apartment, being unwilling to go back to my room and sulk in silence. I’m lazily flipping through channels while idly eavesdropping on a pair of fights. One happening in Jen’s bedroom, and another one that is loudly taking place down the hall.

I know i’m not supposed to really know about the slow decline of Nick and Jen, but she’s been none too subtle about it. Plus she’s been on and on about how awesome Bradley is; how wonderfully attentive, attractive, and handsome he is. Its hard not to get a little jealous, obvious that I’ve been thoroughly friendzoned in comparison. Its unlikely that she’ll ever see me any differently. When we met, she was taken; I was never even a consideration. 

Now that opportunity is gone, I think.

The other fight, the one down the hall, is unavoidably loud with throwing and screaming… none of the British pleasantries that Jen and Nick have been exchanging. Comparatively Jen and Nick are victorian with terse clipped tones and long silences. As the noise continues outside in the hall, It’s getting increasingly discomforting to simply sit here and listen. My ‘inner batman’ wants to jump into action, and save the damsel; But its none of my business. Besides it sounds like she’s giving more than receiving in this fight. I am, however, sharpening my senses to anything that sounds even slightly like it might cross the line of decency.

The fight outside is so disruptive that Jen comes out of her bedroom to tell me to turn down the TV. When I motion to the door and mime that its not me, she abruptly ends the conversation with Nick and asks me what’s going on out there. I’ve been passively listening, and trying to tune it out. I shrug and try to pantomime that its “none of our business” but Jen has her tell-tale cheshire grin on. I know i’m not going to be able to ignore it anymore. She tip toes to the door and puts her ear to it and eagerly waves me over when she obviously hears something juicy.

“I think I just heard her say he ‘can’t keep it in his pants.’ Bring a glass, so we can hear better. ”

I bring two glasses, and put my ear to the bottom of one while handing the other to Jen in hopes that it will amplify the ruckus being raised in the hall. I’m surprised when I hear a muffled voice that sounds strangely familiar. I look to Jen for recognition, but she is facing away. I feel weird listening in, and I’m about to pull Jen away from the door when I hear a set of names “Liz” and “Brian” being angrily shouted that thumps me in the chest. I remember now that Elizabeth is in the same apartment complex, I believe on the same floor.

Oh fuck.

That’s Elizabeth and him fighting out there. Oh christ. I hope that the walls aren’t as thin as the door… otherwise… oh shit. my neighbors would have heard everything the other night… and this morning.

oh fucking fuck.

I quickly pull her by her shoulder to move her away from the door in the hopes that she won’t put two and two together.

“What! It was just getting good!”

“You and I both know we shouldn’t be listening in. Just let them have it out, besides would you want everyone in the building to know about you and Nick?”

She looks stunned, and then angry, and then resigned. “Low blow… but you’re right. Okay okay… but its hard to ignore it when it’s happening literally right outside of my door.”

I just stare at her, cocking an eyebrow knowingly. There’s no need for rebuttal. Jen sighs and shrugs her shoulders vaguely agreeing even though I can tell she desperately wants to continue listening. Thankfully I can tell by her lack of inquisitiveness that she’s not put two and two together. Its just a fight, a salacious one, but not one entailing anyone she knows, therefore she can let it go.

~*~*~*~*

Some time after the din out in the hall has died down, and Jen is snuggled into my side on her couch with her laptop. The rhythmic breathing against my ribs is comforting. This feels like…home. I look over my shoulder to watch her. Her blue eyes focused on her screen, while I let my gaze wander down her face to her neck. The slow rise and fall of her chest is more engrossing than it should be and I’m suddenly wrapped up in the mental image of this particular slope of skin flushed and heaving under my hands.

I’m shaken out of my reverie when I get a text message. Extracting my hand from my pocket I lay my phone on my lap to see its from Elizabeth. I’m hesitant to look at it knowing what I now know, and I stare at my phone for a couple of minutes with my thumb poised to open it and respond to the message.

I’d like to explain…please?

Jen pinches my side…“ow! what was that for?”

“You’re somewhere else. Who’se the text message from that’s got you all in the clouds?”

“its… uh… nobody. Its nothing.”

“uh huh.”

Its her turn to cock her eyebrows at me, and I shrug in response. I’ve not told Jen anything about Elizabeth, and I’m not entirely sure why. Lately She’s the first person that I would turn to regarding this kind of thing. But I’m conflicted. I like Elizabeth, I really do, and Jen is my friend…but I feel…like….

I’m not above begging

Okay, that’s an unusual way to get my attention. I screw my eyes shut and instead of answering, mute my phone. I’m not gonna get involved. This is too messy, and even though I’d normally salivate at the possibility of having a woman beg for me, this isn’t what I need to get twisted up in.

*~*~*~

When I start yawning, repeatedly, Jen kicks me out and tells me to go to bed. I jokingly mention that there is a perfectly good bed not but a few feet away when she up-ends me from her sofa and all but throws me out. I acquiesce, bitterly; she and her couch are just so damned warm and comfortable and I tell her as much. She chortles, but kicks me out anyhow with a faint ‘see ya later’ casted over her shoulder to me on the way to her bedroom while lifting her shirt over her head. I stand for a moment longer than I should watching her turn to reveal a delicious curve of breast before she closes her bedroom door.

As I head back to my condo I look down the hall and seriously consider checking in on elizabeth to make sure that she is alright, and make it all the way to her door before I reconsider. I put my hands in my pocket, and feel the buzz of my phone.

Her ears must have been burning. I look down to see another 5 unanswered text messages from Elizabeth. Okay, obviously she really wants to talk to me, so I sigh raise my fist to knock on her apartment door.

The pause before she gets to the door has me mulling over this morning’s encounter with ‘Brian’ and her. What the hell was she doing half dressed with that asshole hanging on her like that. He looked way too familiar for him to be a one night stand, which means… shit I dunno what it means, but ultimately something that can’t be good for me.

Then there was the way that she ushered him back into the room and…well…the ensuing fight was pretty epic. I am legitimately frustrated and confused at the turn of events. I really shouldn’t be here. She wants to explain, but there is no way that any explanation she could give me would be any good.

By the time I hear her scuffle to the door and release the latches, there is a mixture of anger, fear and concern brewing in my chest, causing my heart to beat in my ears. I’m not above demanding an answer. In fact, I deserve one after all that bullshit from this morning and the night before.

The door opens swiftly, and she stands there looking withdrawn and exhausted.

“Okay. You’ve got my attention. What is it that you wanted to say?”

“Come in. please.”

I follow, and she offers the required pleasantries. I wave them off in favor of a quick retreat and choose to stand by the door. She sighs as she ventures further into her room, and then sinks into the couch. There is a long silence that neither of us is breaking, and from the looks of it she’s not going to budge.

“This is bullshit…”

“I’m so sorry”

The simultaneous outburst from the both of us makes me backtrack. She’s apologizing. That was unexpected.

“This is still bullshit. You said you had an explanation, so… what is it? am I a rebound? what is it that you want from me?” No answer, just more sighs. “Fucking hell Elizabeth! I seriously hope that you aren’t a fucking gold digger. I thought that was beneath you.”

The moment the accusation leaves my mouth I regret it. I know she’s not that kind of woman, but it fucking hurt to show up the next day to see what I saw. I’m sick and tired of being used, and although I hurt that still wasn’t the right, or nice thing to say. The look on her face tells me that I crossed a line. Etched into her face is a look of dejection and pure anger.

“Fuck you for thinking that Josh. I’m not that kind of woman, and if you think that, then you’re a dumber kid than I thought you were.”

Without breaking a beat she gets up and starts charging towards me with rage in her eyes, cementing me to the floor.

“You want an explanation? Fine! I’m very unhappily married. I’ve been wanting to divorce Brian for several years. He’s a philanderer and a user. I’ve been supporting the both of us, while he’s been getting his dick wet with any opportunistic pussy he could find to further his own career.”

I suspected as much; I was a revenge fuck. Damn it, I knew any explanation I got wouldn’t be good, but married?

“Yes I find you attractive! Yes we had sex. But I didn’t do it because I wanted to shove it in Brian’s face. I did it because I am genuinely attracted to you. I think, no I thought, you were smart, sweet, and sincere. You wear your feelings on your sleeve and it was refreshing to meet someone who I felt I didn’t have to figure out…”

“Still…You’re… you’re married!!! That’s supposed to mean something!”

“I know! Don’t you think I already know that! I’m trying to explain. Josh look, I’m sorry…”

I turn to leave shaking my head in dismissal. She’s used me. Elizabeth used me for a revenge fuck.

“Josh wait! He cheated on me first! He promised me that he’d never cheat on me again once we were married. I mean I’ve never found him literally with another woman, since then but I know him. I know he’s stepped out on me more than a couple of times. But you have to know that I didn’t use you for revenge.”

“Yeah!?! Tell that to everyone else on this floor. Everyone could hear your fight, and I know you dropped my name just for the hell of it.”

“Seriously? You think I’m that stupid? I have never, I would never, tell him about what happened.” She mumbles a under her breath, “Besides, Brian is such an egomaniac the thought that I’d cheat on him hasn’t even entered his mind.”

Several seconds pass as I try and decipher what she means. I can’t stand still right now, this is too much to process all at once. So I start pacing in time with my racing thoughts.

“So now what? you extort me?”

“NO! No. Why…why in the hell do you think I would do that. I won’t do that. I can’t do that… I.. think… ugh. My head. I have to sit down.”

She turns from me slowly, to drag her crumpled form back to the couch. 

“Please can we just not fight? Look, I’m sorry. I really truly am.” she says as she rests her head in her hands. Looking at her now I can see a change in her demeanor. There is pain there, there is…

No. I can’t give in. She used me.

“I can’t believe a word you say.”

She looks up from her hands, and motions for me to sit next to her. I don’t move, and the look on her face is one of a defeated woman. I can see now the puffiness of her eyes, and dark circles forming there. There is a sag in her shoulders that isn’t affected. I see now that she’s broken. She’s hurting, really hurting, and I want to go to her, but…

“Josh, you need to know that I am not going to take advantage of you, or of what happened. It’s…That’s not the kind of person that I am, you deserve to know that I’d never use you, and I never meant to.”

I open my mouth to respond, but she cuts me off.

“The truth of all of this is that I acted on instinct. I’m sorry that you got dragged into this. I’ve not been with anyone for, well a long time, including Brian. And I had a…. I guess the best way to describe it is, a visceral reaction to you and it turned out you felt too.”

I stop pacing, as she looks to me her eyes searching for explination. I cross my arms in front of my chest, and observe her, waiting. I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt, let her continue then walk away. That’s best. She looks at me, then takes a deep breath.

“I didn’t know that it could be like that. I mean…I…I’ve never felt this way with or for any one in my life, and the fact that its you scares the shit out of me. Josh, I’m not lying when I tell you that you’re the best I’ve ever hoped I could get, and I feel stupid and angry with myself for ever acting on something I knew I shouldn’t have. But somehow you are sort of undeniable. Its was like at a cellular level my body knew that we’d work, and I just got wrapped up in the moment.”

She drops her head again and I can see tears slowly sliding down to the nadir of her chin. A single tear is forming there, as her breath staccatos as she fights to continue.

“Its…that’s a shitty reason, but its the truth. You deserve nothing less. I can’t tell you I’m sorry in enough ways, and I don’t think I can ever be okay with hurting you. Fuck…I….mean…”

She starts to hiccup through her sobs, as she doubles over on the couch.

I stand there watching her. I can’t stand to see any woman cry real tears, let alone fall to pieces in front of me. But her admission, her confession, was unexpected. My fingers twitch instinctively wanting to reach out and wrap her in my arms. This was the apology that I was looking for, wasn’t it?

She’s married.

“I…I don’t have to listen to this. You used me. You kissed me.”

“I know! I did it. I did it all, and I feel horrible. I…I don’t have any explanation or reason that I could give you that would make any of this better. I’m… I’m pathetic.”

There is a long silence as I struggle to find words and realize that I have none. I want to leave, I feel like I should. But my feet aren’t working, and my legs won’t move. Her sobs subside to sniffles as she gulps in air. I know I have to cut this memory out of my mind, excise it and move on. But I can’t.

There are flashes of what’s transpired in the past 24 hours that pulse through my mind, erotic and overwhelming. And moments in the past 2 months together that tell me she’s not as strong as she puts on. She’s admitted to everything, and even apologized, but I…I don’t know what to do now.

“You…you don’t have to say anything. I get that I really messed up. Tomorrow we can go back to being co-workers. Besides its not like you’ll ever see me again. For the most part I’ll be away from set, so there won’t be any more awkward run-ins.”

She collects herself and moves to the door. As she comes closer she sniffles and something in me breaks. I can’t let her believe that I’m the bad guy. So I pull her to me and wrap her up, trying desperately to communicate all of the things I’m unable to voice. She gasps when she loses her footing to stumble into my grasp, and then begins to sob again.


	6. Can't we be Friends?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music Accompaniment: 'Almost Lover' by A Fine Frenzy and 'Hazy' by Rosi Golan

I shattered.

Josh held me while I cried. He was kind, but distant. Can’t blame him, I am married, and a lie of omission is still a lie. He couldn’t trust me, and I couldn't fault him for not trusting me. I took advantage of his age, my position, and our combined raging hormones. After some time of me sobbing into his chest, he awkwardly excused himself. I let him go, and went to bed and stayed there for two days.

I woke to a particularly vivid dream of Josh straining and pushing into me. I rode him with abandon. My hands splayed out over his abdomen, bouncing vigorously on his lap, and about to climax. Suddenly the bedroom door was swung open to a bank of paparazzi yelling Josh’s name and snapping photos.

It was an unsettling nightmare to say the very least. It left a sweet-sour taste in my mouth; and to say that it was the most vivid of my dreams of late was an understatement.

After a fuller recovery from my concussion, I made sure that I wasn’t on set anymore. It wasn’t necessary, and I wanted to prevent any run-in’s. Instead to focused on completing the film on time. I was wrapped up in coordinating everything for the production heading west. I relied pretty heavily on my assistant to complete everything in Atlanta, including wrap parties, niceties with the local city council, working the the DP and Francis, etc, etc. It helped that we’d be taking the same crew with us, so there was actually a lot less for me to do in preparation. More than anything it was an excuse to relax a bit with the hopes that the change in venue might contribute to a change in my mood.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

I conversed with Lionsgate General Counsel pretty regularly to make sure that she streamlined all of the appropriate permits and got everything all lined up to go for the shoot in Hawaii; We even pow-wowed a few times via Skype. She is a nice, smart, efficient and we made fast friends.

“So, Kathryn... look I uh....”

“What is it Beth, just ask...”

“Do you happen to know any good divorce attorney’s?”

“Oh shit, Really? I’m sorry to hear that; and yes I do...but…uh Does he know this is coming?”

“No, but...it’s long past due. It finally came to a head when he came to Atlanta and to hone in on the producer and a principle for funding. We got into a big fight that pretty much cemented it for me.”

She doesn’t need to know about Josh. It’s not relevant to tell her that I came to the realization that I was being both mentally and physically abused by Brian. It was not just because the sex wasn’t comparable, it was the lack of care. I finally realized that Josh worshipped me in a way that I’d never understood I could be. Brian was simply using me, using my body, warping my mind, and making me feel “less than” so he could take advantage of me. I was an opportunity, a means to further his own ends.

“Yeah work and personal life don’t always go well together.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Seriously?”

I take a beat, I’ve come to like Kathryn. She’s genuine, charming and honest. A ‘Pull-no-punches’ kind of honest that I’ve come to enjoy. It reminds me of my Jersey roots, and I miss it. While on the west coast, you get tired with all of the niceties that everyone prances about with. Always well intentioned missives about ‘caring and sharing’ but are really more bullshit than anything else. Her intonation tells me that she wants to share, so I lead her into the conversation she’s hinting at.

“Well, I was being sarcastic. But it sounds like you’ve got a story to tell... and now you’ve piqued my interest... who was he?”

“I normally would never tell anyone ever, but this one... yeah... he was...”

“Good?”

“Yeah, ah-maz-ing. But younger, much younger than I’d ever date.... Geeze I’ve not talked about this before...we only broke it off last fall.”

“Lemmie guess he wanted  _in_  and tried to use you?”

“No! Thank God. Actually the opposite! He’s an insider, but he just doesn’t get the backcourt game - if you get my meaning. I’m all politics, and he’s all primping. He just didn’t understand what it takes to keep the industry going. I had to break it off ‘cause he wanted more than I could give. Plus he was too young to know any better. But man, was he good in bed. ”

_Huh._

Kathryn’s reveal makes me think that we’re more alike than different. She makes me realize the lack of ‘true friends’ that I have with whom I can actually share this with. There are far too many in this industry who are out only for themselves, and upon recollection...

“Brian is the exact same way. All ‘artistic’, never logistic. He has so many ideas, and some of them are really great, but he completely failed on the execution. Then he got all wrapped up in the snobbery of ‘film-making’, and turned into a fame-whore.”

“Yeah, I remember him...tall, dark, and full-of-himself? Brian is his own special piece of work...l um... Sorry, I shouldn’t say things like that...”

“No don’t worry Kat. You’re right. He was...well just that.”

“Hah! I’m glad to hear that you finally came around Beth. Honestly? I’ve always thought he was a total prick. And tell me if I’m outta line, but off the record, If you’re going to go through with this... you should know that California is a ‘share-alike’ state. So whatever you and your 'soon-to-be-ex' have in common or acquired while married may be up for debate.”

_Oh_.

“However... and I stress this as a friend, not as an attorney, he didn’t always treat you like he should have. He _caused you way more mental distress_  than a normal relationship should have.”

What is Kat hinting at? Does she know? Was it that obvious to everyone else other than me?

“Uh...but he never...”

“Here’s a different question, have you ever helped him write or direct anything? Or more important has he ever used your income to purchase items that he would later use to create anything? Because he certainly shouldn’t get anything from you if you did all the heavy lifting in your marriage. Just saying, as a friend, he doesn’t deserve shit from you.”

Kat’s question gets my mind to whirring.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I made it to Hawaii before everyone else. Thankfully my foresight and planning worked out well, and there were few kinks to prevent the shooting schedule to forge ahead as planned. I found myself strangely without much to do. I tried relaxing and doing my best to forget Josh and forget the headache that was Brian awaiting me in LA.

It wasn’t easy to do that considering Brian was texting, calling and emailing ever since I kicked him out of the Atlanta condo. “The fight” , as I had come to call it, was pretty epic as I unleashed everything on him that I’d been holding back. I confronted him about his ‘extra-marital’ affairs, about his loss of love for me, and how he was trading on my name and my connections. He denied everything, proclaiming his undying love for me, even going so far to ask me to reaffirm our vows. I didn’t buy it, and told him as much. His usual quiet at my newfound confidence didn’t exactly stop me. Instead I just unleashed on him everything that I’d been holding back for the past three years.

I wasn’t brash or forward with him,  _ever_. I guess 3 years of his verbal abuse had worn me down, and he’d never anticipated my unleashing on him. When we met I never thought of myself as one to be dominated in any relationship. In fact when Brian and I met, I never would have considered myself the kind of woman that would be this simpering dependent girl like the one that I had turned into. But then again I never expected anyone as good looking as Brian to ever look my way, let alone show any interest in a shorter than normal, mousy brown haired girl like me. So when he strode across the room and made a bee-line to me I was convinced he was mistaken. That he was instead trying to get the attention of my PA standing next to me, a lithe blonde bombshell who had aspirations for stardom. No one ever crossed a room to talk just to me, and when he blatantly ignored my PA (Bethany I think her name was?) it floored me. He asked me questions about me, my job, my likes and dislikes and seemed like he was genuinely interested in me. We ended up leaving together that night and we’d been together ever since.

I didn’t want to excuse everything for so long, but it just happened. The whirlwind romance and marriage was fast. After our initial meeting he surprised me by proposing and asking to move in with me at the same time. We marred not but 4 months after that in a civil service at the LA courthouse.  I spent the first year of our marriage in awe that someone so ‘talented and gorgeous’ like him could love me. I’d spent so long being dogged by the years of mental abuse from my family, that I had come to believe that I was going to be alone for the rest of my life. And at the time I had resigned myself to it, even going so far as to have 2 cats waiting for me at home.

To say that Brian is the epitome of ‘tall, dark, and handsome’ is an understatement. He spent a good deal of our time together that first year shooing away the advances of others (both men and women alike.) I suppose his good looks blinded me to all of his subtle abuses, and his charm smoothed over all of rough edges. I was much more willing to forgive the regular indiscretions that he continued to have. I had even managed to blind myself to the constant trading on my connections to further his non-existent career.

My marriage is over, but its been non-existent for some time. Josh wasn’t the reason, but he was a catalyst to make me realize how crappy it has been. Brian was never there when I needed him, never even made me feel wanted or desired once the wedding had morphed into a marriage. Sex was comparatively okay, but once the ink on the marriage license dried, it just got dismal. I started to think of being intimate with Brian as a chore. Never mind the fact that my initial insistence on him wearing condoms, even after we were married, just turned into a huge fight. So I relented and took the pill, rather than fight him anymore about it.

But towards the end, I never initiated intimacy, and after awhile he stopped caring about trying to make me feel good, about anything. Sex, well the sex probably was just an extension of how messed up our relationship was. When he wanted it, he took it, whether or not I even wanted to really comply; And worry about my needs after the fact? Ha! I’d be lucky if I got foreplay.

But when I think of Josh, his kisses were sweeter, more tender, than any I’ve had with Brian in recent years. Just his hands on me was enough to make my knees turn to jell-o, and to light me up from head to toe with desire. I mean the sex...the sex was... mind-shattering, toe-curling-ly good. In the spare moments when I wasn’t occupied with schedules or production hiccups, my mind would wander back to that night.

Josh’s hands on my hips, his fingers fitting perfectly into the dimples just above my ass, the rest of his hands fanning out over my lower back and waist while his thumbs pushed into my hip-bones as I sat astride him. Pushing and kneading to a rhythm in tune with our breathing. Deep and gasping turning short and choppy as the air around us thrummed with excitement and heat. The lack of oxygen causing a shortened vibration stemming from my core and stretching to the top of my head.

His swollen lips enveloping the sensitive skin of my breasts; Tugging slightly with his teeth on my nipples sending pulsing sensations of desire to the tips of my hair. His moans joining my whimpers as a cadence of an obscene orchestration would fill the room. His delicious thighs twitching in time with each descent. The hitch of his breath and the hiccup of motion right before he spills his essence into me, and the blur of light bursting behind my eyes as I drift off into oblivion. Josh pushing me beyond my limits repeatedly, and every time falling back to earth, having his strong arms cradling me I shuddered and shook to my finale.

It became a nightly occurrence, the excuse I used when my hands drifted down my abdomen dipping below my panties. I stroked, pinched, and pulled at my tender flesh with his name tumbling from my lips. Using the memories of our brief time together helped me sleep, or so I told myself.

~*~*~*~*~

The last shot wrapped, the majority of the cast off the clock, and a good portion of the crew no longer being paid, the wrap party was a pretty mellow affair. We all knew we’d be seeing one another in a mere 9 months for the next round of filming so this ‘good-bye’ wasn’t as hearty as other’s I’d been to.

I came to the party late, not feeling 100% and needing to finish up some minor stuff back in the office causing my delay. Upon my arrival was greeted by the crew with a hearty slap on the back and a few rib crushing hugs from the grips, and the DP. The make-up crew making kind, if back-handed, mention that I would probably enjoy some down time as my complexion looked a bit ‘off.’ I blamed the long working hours (true) and my desire to get home (not-true.)

I made my rounds, saying thanks, trading stories and avoiding drinks. I needed to keep a clear head. Plus I wanted to make sure I avoided a very specific person. I’d never approached Josh since that night when I came forward with the truth, and he didn’t seem to eager to do the same. When I did scan the room a couple of times I noticed that he was chatting it up with Jennifer close by his side. It was a well known secret that they’d been hooking up regularly since filming moved to Hawaii. Plus, I had no claim over him. I couldn’t blame him, she was gorgeous, funny and his age. Everything I wasn’t.

But as I sat in the back of the room sipping my club soda, I wasn’t being honest with myself. I was being petulant. I was sulking over the fact that he didn’t reach out to me since that night, even if he was right to stay away. But I still held hope against hope that maybe he would eventually forgive me. I didn’t deserve him, but I still wanted him, still craved him. I was resolved that night to let him go, but my heart didn’t agree with me. Unannounced, my PA Mark, sidled up to me and bumped my shoulder jostling me out of my little pity party.

“Hey boss lady! You’re not here. What’s up?!”

“Huh?”

Mark dramatically swept his arm out across the crowd, pantomiming that I had cornered myself. I sighed in recognition and shrugged my shoulders while I absently chewed on my straw in my highball of soda. Mark arched his eyebrows and wordlessly stared me down. I shrugged again and concentrated on the ice melting.

“Okay, fine. Don’t talk. But know that until you do it’ll eat you up. So I’ll be good and leave you alone until you’re ready to tell me. Everything.”

“Thanks? But you don’t have to. There isn’t anything to tell.”

Mark barks out a laugh while he pats me on the thigh. “Tell that to someone who’d believe it. In the meantime, go be a good 1st AD and talk to someone other than me. Hey look there’s Josh, he’s an easy conversation!”

I gulped roughly and started to choke on my soda in an attempt to stop Mark before he could wave him over. Unfortunately my body betrayed me, and I was a sputtering mess and couldn’t coherently stop him in time from motioning Josh to my dark corner of the room.

“Hey Josh! Come on over here! Say hello to your lowly crew members!”

“Mark! Dude why would you say that? You aren’t lowly - in the least. Now shallow... that’s another story.”

“Wha? Just because I like to oggle you, Sam and Alan in your wetsuits? Not my fault you’re walking around half-naked! And its not like I was the only one ogling... Beth here was just short of eye-fucking you!”

I snap my head in his direction and scowl at the mention “MARK! Stop it, I did not eye...um....” I look at Josh who has turned a shade of red that isn’t due to the drink in his hand while he wide-eyed looks me over. I feel a flash of heat rising in my cheeks as he grins at me expectantly.

“I swear, I wasn’t doing anything Josh.”

“Like hell you weren’t...I saw you Beth, remember I was saying that day when....”

“Mark!! You can leave. Now!”

Mark smiles conspiratorially while he gathers his drink and gets up from his seat to offer it to Josh. I give him my best ‘you’re-gonna-get-bitch-slapped-later’ look as he chuckles and walks back into the crowd. Josh takes his seat next to me and begins to swirl the amber contents of his drink. I stare back and forth between the glass in his hand and his lap where it rests while I mentally stutter over how to begin this very awkward conversation. I hear him sigh and I can’t stand the quiet any longer.

“...I’m sorry”

“...this is weird”

We both blurt out at the same time. He smiles his megawatt smile and chuckles while I inspect my toenails in my flip-flops. I really wish I had gotten a pedicure, had I known that I would...

“There’s no need to apologize Elizabeth. I think that we’ve established that you’ve been avoiding me since, uh... we happened.”

I sigh audibly and then take a big breath. Its now or never, and I have to come clean. “No Josh, I really do. I don’t think I can ever apologize enough...for...for taking advantage of you.” He cocks an eyebrow at me in confusion and so I pull my gaze from my drink to look him in the eye.

“I took advantage of our working situation and completely misconstrued what should have been a purely professional relationship. I am so sorry, and I can never tell you clearly the depths of how bad I feel for dragging you into my own personal problems. I didn’t mean for you to ever get tangled up in my horrible sham of a marriage. It was completely disingenuous for me to not tell you everything the minute I...” looking into his sparkling eyes, I see the reflection of the fairy lights and realize the very public setting of our conversation. I gulp down the words I want to say and instead and do my best to speak directly to the problem without stating it explicitly, “...I ...uh...did what I did.”

“Huh. Oh-kay. Um...thanks? I think? But Elizabeth...”

“Look, can we just forget it happened? Go back to being ‘friends?’”

“We can try. But if I’m gonna be honest with you, Elizabeth... I don’t know if I can.”

“Please, Josh. I just... look I’m not expecting anything from you. I just... well I...”

I’m looking around frantically, I want this conversation to go so much better than it is, but this really isn’t the right setting, or time to have it out. Plus all of the tension in my stomach is making me nauseated at the thought that he may hate me. I’m on the verge of tears and suddenly feeling less and less in control of emotions. I’m shaking. This isn’t me. I don’t do this, but then again I also don’t have affairs, or get divorced.

He reaches out a hand to gently place it on my knee. Forcing my eyes to where he rubs small circles on my thigh. I take a shuddering breath, trying with all my might to compose myself. I stutteringly start and stop to an explanation, but my tongue is fat and heavy in my mouth.

“Okay, whatever. But, Elizabeth? I gotta tell you, I really like you...No that’s not quite right.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head in frustration? Confusion?

He takes a deep breath, lifts his eyes to mine and lets his hand drop back down over the back of my hand. “I respect you, and your choices, whatever they are. But if I’m truthful with myself...well I thought that...well...I think that you deserve to be treated better than that. And...I know its not my place, but your Husband doesn’t know what he’s got if you’re treated like anything less than the awesome person you are.”

The tears feel fat in my eyes. I’m afraid to blink because I know that if I do, I may lose it. He pats my thigh and readies to stand. An epiphany hits me hard in the chest. I can’t let him go. I want to be selfish. I need him. I have to have him to know that I still want him.

“I’m getting divorced.” I blurt it out to keep him from leaving.

He snaps his head in my direction, eyes wide in shock.

“I mean, I’ve filed. He should have been served by now, come to think of it.”

He continues to stare at me, obviously processing what I’ve just told him. My resolve to be selfish is crumbling when I see Jennifer look in our direction with a hint of concern flashing in her eyes.

“Thank you for saying that I deserve better. Aaand…I don’t think I’ve earned it yet, but I’d like to think that I could one day deserve you.”

He gasps while a pregnant pause fills the space. I can hear the thoughts tumbling through his head deciphering what I mean by my confession. As I sit there and stare expectantly, I can’t stand the silence so I fill it with stupid jawing.

“I...uh...I totally understand if you don’t want to even know me. I mean I did lie to you, and I get if you never want to forgive me for that. But you weren’t the cause for my divorce. It was a long time in coming. We’d been separated for some time. He was an asshole, I suppose I already knew that, but after...uh... we became ‘friendly’ I realized how much of an ass...”

He puts his hand up “Elizabeth, stop.” I clamp my mouth shut in response. He lets his hand drop to his thigh and then moves to sit down next to me. “That’s a lot to unload on me...I…uh.... shit. I mean... I don’t know what to say.”

He looks exhausted. He shakes his head in defeat and then looks up at me like I will know how to save this situation from being more awkward than it already is. I sigh and resume sipping on my drink. He sighs in response while his gaze flits out over the crowd. We continue this way for some time, sitting quietly next to one another.

After some time, Jennifer comes over with a smile and a hug. Her presence is enough to pull me out of the moment to focus on being genial and keep a positive ‘work-face’ on. We talk about shooting, the crew, the location, possible reshoots. Sooner than I realize she and Josh interlace their fingers and say their goodbyes to head out the door. I stare hopelessly after Josh as he walks out with her hand in his. He takes a quick look over his shoulder and waves goodbye as he leaves with his hand resting comfortably on Jennifer’s hip.

And it hits me like a ton of bricks.

I am alone.

The sudden overwhelming need throw up launches me out of my seat and barreling towards the bathroom at top speed.

 


End file.
